Null Heart: Reference Exception
by amiavamp
Summary: The era of wishes and miracles is but a quaint memory. What was once known as magic is now known to be the cold hard truth of science. As a united world struggles to cope with the rise of unprecedented technologies once reserved for inhuman devils, unrest teems beneath the surface. Heresy lurks in every shadow…and deep in the Heart of Lastation, the shadows grow dark, indeed.
1. Gated Synth

_AN: A big thanks to Ghost 501 for assisting with this story._

 _This little foray into noir fiction is written to work as a standalone novel. However, if you haven't read the related story over at Null Heart: Interdimensional Catastrophe, it is recommended – but not required – that you do so to get a peek at the misdeeds that have been happening across the pond in Leanbox._

* * *

 _Begin Experiment Log S-H-540: Null Heart, Part 2._

 _Hah. Another tape, is it? Such an impressive collection you possess. You are forever searching, are you not?_

"You are doing much the same."

 _This is true enough. Yet, I do not understand the foolishness of encapsulating these memories in such a way. Surely you possess a more efficient method of storage? Even a device as ancient as a hard disk drive could contain this entire archive in far more digestible form._

"Hmph. Of all the beings in this far-reaching multiverse, you should be one knowing of the power of vintage quality."

 _Ah. Vintage, is it? How quaint._

"Quite so, dear CPU. Do allow me this one weakness of character, if you would?"

 _Of course. No one is immune to the human condition. Not even I._

"And we would not be preferring it any other way."

 _Play._

* * *

 _Lastation City – capital of the Land of Black Regality, as its official stamp named it. To call it a place like any other would be a terrible lie._

"Target has been sighted. She's entering the Rowdy Dragon parlor. You're going to go after her, right?"

"Have you ever known me to be patient?"

"Well, once upon a time…"

Approaching the establishment ahead, one would be struck by the impressive height of the structure it was housed within, were it not for every other building around it stretching to the sky in a similar manner, as if in a competition to reach ever higher and touch the roof of clouds above. The crescent moon peeked bashfully downward through a hole in the storm that had just rolled in, hanging over the city like a wet rag ready to be wrung. Already, a light rain was beginning to fall, pinging upon the concrete and asphalt and bringing the heady aromas of gasoline and oil to one's nose. A haze was forming around the massive sign greeting visitors to the "ROWDY DRAGON" in its garish neon red as a figure stepped in from the street below, the building's automated glass doors opening in welcome.

 _Beneath a veneer of normalcy could be found everything that one would dream of existing in a city of so many names. Lastation – the crossroad of Gamindustri. Lastation – home of the entrepreneur. Lastation – capital of the world._

A moment of silence was afforded as the entranceway closed behind, with another set of those deceptively bulletproof doors lying in wait just ahead. The figure standing within that muffled airlock stopped and grimaced, bracing for the room beyond. Then, as the next doors slid open, an assault upon one's senses was unleashed. Sound – great and terrible sound. Sounds of people. Sounds of joy, sounds of defeat. Sounds of machines, clicking and tinking and kachinging away, all overlaid with a thousand different melodies and jingles. And the sights – an entire maze of a floor dedicated to serving as a gaming parlor, where souls of all sorts would come to throw their money away in hopes of winning big.

 _Many denizens of Lastation contented themselves with normalcy, as it was. It was only natural for any upstanding citizen to shield his or herself from the shadowy underbelly that made the world tick and tock. Willful ignorance was the most profitable business in Lastation, after all, even if it found itself in a strange, contradictory place just below the eye of the law. Seeking a little indulgence every now and then to sate the appetite was not only expected, but encouraged – and the various industries of Lastation were more than willing to serve up a little made-to-order sin._

The décor was as ostentatious as one would expect for a place with such a name as the Rowdy Dragon, the room being dotted with lush potted plants hanging from the light fixtures snaking by on the ceiling overhead, visible in the paths between rows upon rows of electronic machines that stretched to nearly twice a man's height. Every color of the rainbow could be seen inside, whether from one of the many signs overflowing with words that excitedly begged passersby to give this or that a try, from the digital screens filling the eyes of the players with a lightshow to keep them pumped for more, or from the tawdry pattern found on the carpet beneath. All of it served to dull the senses, lest they be overwhelmed by the onslaught of stimuli.

 _But not everyone was content with a mere taste of Lastation's intoxicating brand of bread and circuses, of course. The darker side of Lastation did not run itself. There would always be those who wished to exploit it, as well as those who wished to bring some semblance of order or justice to the chaos teeming unseen. And beneath these lofty individuals could be found ten thousand cogs squeaking along in relative silence, only occasionally rearing their ugly heads to the general populace._

 _All in all, it was a good, healthy, balanced system – not perfect, but what was?_

 _Sure, every now and then, a cog would fly loose, or grind to a halt. People would get hurt. A light would be cast on the shadow, sending the rats scampering for cover. Usually, one would just need to apply a little grease, and it would all work itself out. Everything would be back to normal with no one the wiser._

 _Sometimes, though, a little grease just wasn't enough. Sometimes, you needed something as expensive and as brutally effective as a precision airstrike – a specialist._

Within the crowded parlor hall, where one could scarcely believe that so many people could be packed into one room, a single figure made its way through, being largely ignored by the hundreds of visitors absorbed in their games of chance. The figure reached a hand up to the side of its neck before deciding against the gesture, moving that hand to a pocket to retrieve the oh-so-essential device known as a phone.

 _Which floor?_

Moments later, a message flashed onto the screen.

 _Thirty-sixth floor. Not in view of cameras anymore. Be careful._

Of course. No one of note would sully themselves by being found on the ground floor of this place.

An elevator door was just ahead, but the figure veered to the side, instead electing to engage in a fitness course with the stairwell nearby. Up, and turn, and up, and turn, and up, and turn…

 _Elevator is faster._

An irritated groan was masked by the deafening volume that permeated the lower floors of the parlor at all hours of day and night.

 _Stairs are smarter._

Having wasted the few moments to tap out that message, the figure continued on, having finally reached the thirty-sixth floor in question. Here, the ambience was of a quieter nature, no longer leaving one's ears with the consistency of cotton.

 _Dropping in from the roof would be smarter. And cooler._

The only response to that particular message was a furrowing of the brow.

On this floor high above the ground, the crowd was notably thinner, the numbers on the signs were decidedly higher, and the machines were replaced by age-old traditional devices – tables hosting all manner of games, some skill-based, others quite luck-based. And beside those tables could be found more than just winners and losers.

 _Pick a lucky girl for me, won't you?_

Certainly, those girls giggling in their coy way were a damn finer sight than anything else that had met the visitor's eyes this night, clad in a variety of outfits that all shared the goal of drawing one's attention to the goods nearly on display. One of those girls stepped over to this new visitor, opening her mouth to begin a practiced spiel, before closing her mouth right back up at the glare she received and stepping aside.

Ahead, gathered around a pool table under the flush of deep blue, there were a few men dressed in some of the finest pinstriped, broad-shouldered suits this side of Lastation, surrounded by the finest women this side of Gamindustri. Their joking and laughter died down as a stranger approached, her tailed coat being sharp, but just not quite sharp enough to fit the mood.

"Get a load of this broad, would you?" The sneer on the man's face as he turned and nodded to his gathered compatriots faded when the newcomer merely continued to walk past, not even deigning to give him a glance. The man jumped in front of the woman, making sure that he got her attention. "Hey! I'm talkin' to y—"

The man would surely be spending the next few hours engulfed in pain and regretting his life choices, but for now, he was rendered unconscious, having been thrown to the floor with a maneuver so swift that his companions could only blink in confusion.

"The hell? Did you see that?"

That was the sentiment of those who had witnessed the event, the room growing ever so slightly hushed as the mysterious woman made her way across the parlor floor, those who would seek to impede her now preemptively scurrying out of her path.

 _Subtle, Cave._

The woman tapped a finger to her neck before muttering, "I have no time for idiots dallying in their games of bravado."

"Gee. When did you get to be so cold?" spoke the voice in her ear.

"I prefer 'efficient.'"

Toward the back of the room, the open floor ended early at a wall with a metal door. A holographic keypad sprung to life where a handle might normally be found. Barely a moment passed before the warning crimson glow of the "LOCKED" indicator shifted to a more pleasant hue of blue, stating that the door was now "OPEN." In that single moment had occurred such a complex series of wireless electronic interactions that it would likely render the typical egghead from a decade prior into ecstatic shock. As it was, Cave was merely slightly pleased when the door slid open and then closed behind her, giving hardly a passing thought to the mechanisms behind the process she had just performed subconsciously. A narrow hallway continued onward, with several more doors present on either side of the hall.

"I do not suppose you know which room he is in?"

"Nope," came the answer.

"Then I will have to try them all."

That kind of sloppiness was hardly Cave's style, but this entire sortie had been a rush job, made frustrating by a target that knew it was being hunted. The exact method by which the quarry had managed to end up here was a mystery she had no time or will to solve. What she did know was that it was here, somewhere – and it would be fleeing quite soon if she did not get a move on.

Of course, no one earned the title of "specialist" by coming to work unprepared. A shimmering of color was visible upon Cave's eyes as her vision shifted, revealing the world to her in a whole new light. Unfortunately, that new light was a whole lot of blues and whites that weren't all that interesting to look at.

"The doors are shielded."

"Well, I guess the Rowdy Dragon values its customers' privacy, huh?"

The corner of Cave's mouth turned upward as her vision returned to normal. "Yet they care too little to patch the flaws in the door that allowed me near-instantaneous access to this private hallway."

"Hey, I've done enough reports on corporate security to know that IT is _expensive!_ "

"Nevermind the revenue that comes with running a 'gaming parlor' spanning forty-three stories. Lastation's busiest, in fact, as you once wrote."

"Well, they _do_ rent out some of the floors…"

Cave approached the first of the doors on her left, reaching out a hand. Her palm folded open, revealing a tiny compartment inside from which a cable snaked out, attaching itself to the surface of the door like a lamprey.

"…on, baby. They ain't gonna know about a little palm grease. So what say you and me kick this up a few notches, huh?"

Cave barely managed to hold back a groan of disgust as the words reached her from inside the room. Her eavesdropping session revealed only more lines of the sort one might expect to hear in the seedier dens dotting Lastation. She retracted the cable, moving on to the next door, where a similar story could be found, albeit in the form of a few noises she wished she could forget by the time she'd decided to try a third door.

She was nearly about to head to a fourth door, having deemed the current room being tested to be empty, until a voice cut through the silence.

"This place sucks. I just wanna get to Lowee already. What's taking so long? Is the driver lost? Or drunk? Lost _and_ drunk?"

 _Positive match._ That was the voice of her target.

" _Shut it_ , girl _._ You're lucky we didn't just off your precious, spoiled ass after all the trouble you made for us."

"Oh yeah? You wouldn't dare. I'm worth too much to you, and you know it."

A moment passed before there was a loud _thwap,_ followed by something thudding to the floor.

"What the _fuck?_ " came the exclamation of a new voice. "Damaged goods don't pay the bills, you fucking _idiot!_ "

In the next moment, the door _swooshed_ open, as such doors were wont to do, interrupting whatever the occupants of the room had to say.

"What the…did you open that?"

"Hey, don't look at me, man!"

The two men cautiously raised their rifles, waiting for several tense seconds before deciding that they should take a look outside.

"Empty. There's no one out here."

"Figures, don't it? Just the door being sh—"

One of the men was suddenly knocked from his feet by an unseen force, his cheek rippling with the impact as if a match-ending haymaker had been delivered from a heavyweight champion. He flew limply to the ground, the rifle that had been in his hands clattering down next to him.

The other man was quick to raise his weapon when he saw the blur rushing toward him, just barely visible in the dim, moody lighting of the hall. He'd never seen this type of thing in person before, but years of watching action and sci-fi flicks tended to prepare one for almost anything, at least in a kind of tertiary sense. Before he could press his finger to the trigger, though, he felt something wrench the rifle to the side and yank it away from his hands just as a sharp pain went through his stomach, forcing him to double over. He could make out the sight of his rifle floating in the air for a moment before being enveloped by that strange blur – and then he felt the butt of his rifle smash him right in the face, laying him out on the floor. The last thought that went through his mind before he was interrupted by unconsciousness was that he'd just gotten his ass kicked by an invisible ninja, and that was pretty damn cool.

Cave wasted no time basking in her accomplishment, stooping down to place her newly acquired weapon on the floor away from the hands of its stunned owner – she would have disassembled the two guns to be extra cautious, but her knowledge on how to field strip the latest and greatest of illicit weaponry was sorely lacking.

 _Caution: SP reserves below fifty percent._

Occupying a corner of the AR display overlaying her vision was a blinking warning. She toggled off her optical camouflage, watching her arm fade back into view as if by magic. Relying on a gimmicky piece of technology went against much that she had been taught, but she had also been taught to use every option available – and she wasn't about to turn down the advantages cooked up by Lastation's brightest minds, now that she had them.

"Two thugs of the typical sort were dispatched without incident," Cave muttered, raising a hand to the side of her neck. "They appear to have been guarding the subject."

"Shoot! I wish I could've seen you in action."

"It was nothing out of the ordinary – aside from their weaponry, that is." Cave gave a glance toward each of the two guns on the floor. "Fully automatic assault rifles – ballistic, but still very new in design. No doubt they were expecting someone such as myself. I can only wonder at where they acquired their arms."

"Eh…no telling, really. With all the violence lately, I'm sure there's a market to leak some guns somewhere."

Cave's eyes narrowed. "I suppose looking into the matter ourselves would not be productive."

There was an audible sigh. "Eeyeh…I'm familiar with _that_ problem. Still, though – rifles? Wouldn't it have been way easier to smuggle in something smaller?"

"Perhaps they feel emboldened by the decreasing popularity of metal detectors within Lastation. Their voluminous jackets are certainly up to the task."

"Oh, right. I guess you would've lit up like a Christmas tree waltzing on in through the front door if they didn't put so much trust in this handy-dandy camera network."

"I do not 'waltz.'" Before there could be any further comment, Cave added, "I am seeing to the subject now."

Awaiting in the room ahead was a typical set of comfortable, if tacky furniture, arranged in a circle around a spot that should have been occupied by a low coffee table, which was pulled over to the wall. Instead, placed in the center of the room was the form of a woman lying on her side, facing away from the door. Her hands were bound behind her back by metal handcuffs – truly, such an archaic restraining device must have been looted from a museum.

The young woman's eyes opened from their pained grimace when she felt something tug at her cuffs. "Um…"

Before the obvious question could even be asked, Cave was already answering, "I am here to rescue you." A moment later, she heard the satisfying _click_ of the handcuffs releasing, having easily been opened by the lockpicking kit she kept within an inner coat pocket.

"'Rescue' me?" the target asked as she was gingerly lifted to a sitting position. "You mean you're taking me to Lowee, right?"

"…No."

The young woman sprang to her feet with sudden vigor, taking a few steps away before spinning to face her rescuer. "No no no no _no!_ I know who sent you! I'm not going back to Mr. Kutaragi! No way, no how!"

"Hm. I would ask if you are injured, but I suppose that is a moot question."

The defiant young lady standing in front of Cave with crossed arms was hardly more than a girl, her neatly trimmed bob of dark hair partly concealing the bruise that marred her Lastation features. Her multi-colored eyes were glowing bright as if lit by some power source, but the true giveaway was the shape formed by her pupils, which would be notable to anyone who had even passing familiarity with a PC. She continued to glare with those unnatural eyes for a while, her cheeks puffed out in a childish manner.

A flash of irritation went through Cave – she'd dealt with uncooperative persons of interest before, but there was something particularly irksome about handling what amounted to retrieving a runaway child. "I do find it surprising that one such as yourself managed to enlist the assistance of a local gang. What I find less surprising is that you foolishly believed that they would actually railroad you to Lowee."

The girl lowered her arms. "What d'ya mean? Of _course_ they were taking me to Lowee! If _you_ hadn't shown up, I'd be in a car out of the city in a few minutes!"

"You mean you would be on your way to being held for ransom in a secure location, or perhaps having your sale to an interested buyer being arranged."

"Well, yeah, they already told me that someone in Lowee was gonna buy me, stupid!"

Cave's expression momentarily fell into a glare of its own. She let slip a tired sigh, rubbing her forehead at a nonexistent headache. "There is no time for this foolishness. I was hired to bring you back to your…father, and that is what I will do. You cannot honestly believe that being sold into veritable slavery is worse than that."

" _Anything_ is better than going back to that place!"

"And why is that?"

The girl opened her mouth to snap out another reply, but something made her hesitate. "It doesn't matter where I go, does it? He's always going to be hunting for me…sending people like _you_ after me. I'm never gonna be free, am I?"

"Not unless you are given the purpose of being free."

The girl's eyes turned aside, her lips pressing together into a thin line.

Cave took a step forward, having to tilt her head downward – she was at least a foot taller than her quarry. "I would be pleased enough to discuss the ethics surrounding the creation and ownership of CPUs another day, but I am afraid that we must get moving. The two men escorting you will not remain unconscious for much longer, and it is almost assured that I have managed to draw attention from others, as well. Willingly or not, you will need to come with me, lest you risk life and limb."

Another precious set of seconds passed, after which the girl gave a mopey little nod. "Okay."

Cave's response consisted only of a piercing look. She stepped out into the hall, where the two men were still lying, unmoving, but breathing.

"What are you doing?" asked the subject, watching as Cave dragged the men back into the room, depositing them in a corner.

"We cannot simply walk out through the crowds to the front door. We require a more discreet exit point." Cave made her way to the end of the hall, which was capped off by a wall adorned with some digital painting of ultra-post-postmodern art that she could hardly begin to describe. She reached into her coat to retrieve what looked to be a strip of chewing gum. Unravelling the silvery wrapper, she raised the gum to her mouth and gave it a lick before pressing it to the wall, where it stuck like a piece of tape. "Let us retreat back into the room momentarily. Oh, and do cover your ears."

Moments later, the building shook with the force of a low _boom_ , which may or may not have been interpreted as part of the bass track in the song that was currently playing over the parlor's speakers.

"What the hay, Cave? I just saw part of the wall blow open from one of the outside cameras. _You_ didn't do that, did you?"

Cave ignored the voice nagging at her via internal radio, instead turning her head to look at the young lady beside her as they stood over what was now a cliff leading to the outside world. "You can uncover your ears now."

"I-I know. I…um… _wow._ "

The sight greeting them was breathtaking indeed, even if it was just a relatively low view of Lastation's skyline. The ground may have been far, far below at thirty-six stories up, but even still, there was an endless number of taller structures obstructing their view of the fluorescent cityscape around them. It all seemed to stretch on into infinity – not a single patch of darkness was visible on the horizon. From their point of view, it was entirely possible that the whole world consisted of this sprawling, rain-soaked city, filled to the brim with an ant colony's worth of cars, people, and gravity-defying skyscrapers, not to mention the glow of streetlamps and spotlights, the eye-searingly bright ads, the drones and airships lazily buzzing overhead…

"It is a testament to humanity's desire to create, to expand, to…improve," said Cave. "You are much the same."

"I…guess so." The girl's wistful gaze out through the rain whipping lightly at her face was interrupted when she felt a touch on her shoulder.

"There will be time for sightseeing on the way home. For now, let us make our escape."

The girl nodded as Cave kneeled down.

"Grab tightly onto my back, and do not let go."

A moment of hesitation passed.

"Quickly, now!"

Another moment went by before the girl complied, wrapping her arms around the woman's shoulders. Finding a place to put her hands was a bit awkward, but she managed.

Cave rose to her feet, the slowness of the motion more for her target's sake than her own. The fifty kilograms or so of composite materials and synthetic muscle fibers clinging to her felt like little more than a light backpack. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for wha—aaa _AAAAAAAAHHHH!_ "

A scream filled the air as Cave stepped off the edge, a moment of weightlessness passing. In the next moment, her entire being was occupied with running down the side of the building in a dizzying blur. Sparks shot from beneath her boots as they struggled to find purchase against the wall, though whether that was from friction or from interaction between the rain-slick metal and the activated magnets in her feet was unknown. Wind filled her ears and brought water to her squinting eyes as she tightened her grip on the girl in her protection, who had incidentally stopped screaming at some point during the descent.

Another shriek briefly assaulted Cave's ears – above it rang out the crack of a gunshot, nearly knocking her out of the trance she had placed herself into. The world seemed to become a lot quieter for a second as the limiters adjusted to protect her hearing.

"Crap! They're gunning for you, Cave!"

Cave ignored the commentary from her would-be operator. She focused only on willing herself to somehow move faster, but there was still a long, long way to go – and one wrong move would send her plummeting to the unforgiving pavement beneath.

Another series of gunshots came from above, a spray of shrapnel hitting Cave's leg from where the bullets had struck the wall. Evidently, they valued killing her more than the price on the girl – that, or they were just stupid. She had hoped that the presence of the subject on her back would have been cover enough, but now she would simply have to bet on their aim being subpar until she could reach the bottom.

" _Gah!_ They've got guys on the ground, too! A whole group of them!"

A twinge of fear shot through Cave more effectively than any bullet could when her eyes managed to make out the sight of guns being pointed her way from far below. The glow of nearly a dozen muzzle flashes coincided with a shimmering in the air around her – the electromagnetic shield had activated automagically, creating an impressive spray of heated lead as the projectiles were diverted.

 _Warning: SP reserves below twenty-five percent._

Cave's eyes darted around for some kind of escape. Her shield wouldn't last much longer, and either the bullets or the fall would kill her when her energy dropped below a critical threshold. She knew she was caught in a serious bind, but she hadn't come this far by letting panic sink its claws into her whenever she stared death in the face.

Some distance down was an elevated railway that ran close to the side of the building. A quick retrieval and calculation told her that the next train would be arriving at the point closest to her in…four seconds?

Her head turned to see that, as predicted, a train was fast approaching, following along above a major highway that cut through the heart of the city. Its speed, while impressive compared to the cars beneath, was not characteristic of its aerodynamic shape – safety dictated that such a bullet train could only challenge the sound barrier when racing through the countryside between the metropolises dotting the world.

Another calculation told her that her landing velocity would be far outside survivable limits for a human being. And common sense told her that her plan was suicidal. But she had little other choice.

… _Three._

 _Two._

 _One._

"Now!"


	2. All in a Night's Work

_Initiating system reboot…_

The whole world seemed to be far too loud, and yet it was all muffled as if coming through water. It definitely _felt_ like being underwater, what with the sensation of being blasted by a slipstream running through her hair and across her back. Then again, maybe it was more like being caught in a wind tunnel.

SD managed a sigh when she noticed the multitude of messages displaying against her eyelids. She must've done something _really_ stupid to warrant that much red text. Normally, when something like this happened, she would be back in her maintenance room, waiting for some smarty-pants to give a damage report – and _that_ meant that she was back home.

She didn't remember going home, though. In fact, hadn't she been on her way to Lowee? Had she fallen asleep in the car, maybe, and that feeling was the window over the door being left open?

That didn't make any sense. For one thing, she was lying facedown on something – and that something was hard and smooth, like plastic, almost. For another thing, she could definitely recall something about a train.

 _A…train?_

It was hard to shake off that sensation of being underwater as her eyes opened to be met by something dark, but shiny. Every second or so she could see a light reflect off the surface beneath.

 _I'm definitely going somewhere, and fast._

She made the mental command to tilt her head upward, but her body refused, giving her some kind of error. Stupid rules…

 _Manual override engaged. WARNING: System reboot and recovery is only 38.7% complete. Non-vital systems may exhibit reduced functionality until the repair process is finished._

 _Yeah, yeah._

She wasn't really sure why she needed that whole "subconscious" side to run things for her and boss her around. It was _her_ mind and body – why wasn't she in total control?

Finally, she regained the use of her limbs. She still found it very difficult to move, as if she was being held down by a pile of sandbags, but she was glad to no longer be paralyzed nonetheless.

 _Non-vital, huh? I think being able to walk is pretty vital._

After some effort, she managed to slide her arm against the surface of the…whatever she was on. With some more effort, she managed to push herself up slightly and lift her head.

 _A train._

She was forced to squint against the ferocious gale of wind and rain rushing at her, the lights and buildings of the city whipping by on either side in a dizzying blur. A sudden fear gripped her, pinning her in place for at least a good minute. She eventually managed to convince herself that if she hadn't fallen off yet for however long she'd been unconscious, she probably wouldn't any time soon.

Her eyes soon managed to make out a shape a few meters ahead in the lights flickering by. She would've shrugged to herself if she could as she set upon pulling herself forward a little at a time, staying flat against the surface. Eventually, she slid up beside what she assessed to be a person, either dead or knocked out, the figure's face turned away from her own. She reached an arm up to give the woman a little shake.

 _She's not cold, at least. Well, not any colder than the wind chill out here._

She nearly jumped when she felt something grip her arm, slowly clamping into an exceptionally tight squeeze. Her eyes moved over from the hand grasping her to find that the woman was now looking right at her. The woman's lips moved as if she was saying something, but the words were lost in the noise of the wind. She seemed to realize that she was inaudible, since her brows creased in annoyance as she loosened her grip on the girl's arm, but did not quite let go.

A moment later, a message appeared in SD's vision.

 _You are not severely damaged, I hope?_

The girl blinked, not exactly sure how this woman had managed to get remote access to a CPU, until she realized her father had probably provided the needed files in case SD was uncooperative during the "rescue." SD gave a groan before thinking up a reply.

 _I seem to be a-okay.%%%%%%%errrrrrr &inqw,#_

 _Your remote communication interface appears to be misconfigured._

 _Okay. Whatever. It's fixed now. Stupid reset…_

 _You are lucky to be alive. I would recommend that you seek hospitalization immediately were it not for your unique nature._

 _Kind of hard to do that anyway when we're on a TRAIN._

The woman's expression grew wry at this comment. _Of course. Apologies. I did not intend to put you in harm's way. Admittedly, I did not have much time to plan exfiltration for this assignment. Improvisation was necessary._

 _Gee. Some kidnapper you are._

Now the woman threw a glare. _I prefer 'private investigator.'_

 _Well, okay, Ms. PI. How are we getting out of this one?_

 _My name is Cave, in the event that you wished to know._ She continued to glare for a while longer before she blinked, her gaze softening. _Unfortunately, there is no easy way from our current position. The train beneath us is not equipped with emergency exits on its front or back – the only access would be available on the sides. Luckily, this train is scheduled to stop within the next minute._

 _So we just sit tight until it stops?_

 _Yes._

 _That's a lot less exciting then I was expecting._

The girl could see Cave give a "hmph." _Life is not always exciting._

SD breathed out a sigh, bracing herself for the rest of the unpleasant ride. She would be glad to be safe and sound, sure, but she wasn't looking forward to what would happen next – most likely being escorted home to be doted over by her "father." It was unlikely that he would give her any real punishment, conveniently ignoring the fact that her flight had been carefully premeditated. He would overlook any crime for her, no matter how heinous. She was his precious SD, after all – his magnum opus.

 _The train is slowing. We will be arriving at the station shortly._

A jolt of fear went through SD as she was shifted forward slightly, the measured deceleration of the train being much more comfortable for the passengers inside. Eventually, the wind died down to a gentle breeze, the insane blur of lights around her dissolving into something more recognizable. Still, the pattering of rain upon her back kept her in discomfort.

Cave's grip on the girl's arm tightened.

 _We will cover our escape via optical camouflage. Do not allow yourself to be released from my contact until I say that doing such is safe._

SD nodded, swallowing nervously.

Finally, the train floated to a standstill, pulling up beside an outdoor station situated above the ground level of the city, yet still dwarfed by the buildings present on all sides that seemed to pen it in. The platform was about the size of a city square, even having a fountain situated in the center, which provided a brilliant neon glow with its angular, modern design. Most of the platform was covered by a windowed roof that hung several meters overhead, providing relief to those beneath from the rain that was beginning to pick up in intensity. The station was fairly busy, with people walking this way and that, coming and going via the sets of stairs on either side. Many others were clearly waiting for the next train, some seated on the benches that were provided near the railings on the platform's edges.

SD could tell that the latest rush hour had already passed. Still, if she could just slip away from this woman, surely it wouldn't be hard to lose her in the crowd…

She nearly jumped when she turned her head to see that Cave had vanished. Even more alarmingly, her own body had turned invisible, as well. Looking more closely, she could see that there was a space in the air where the rain simply _stopped_ , the droplets pinging off a nothingness.

The doors beneath them opened. A gentle woman's voice played over some unseen speakers to notify the occupants of the platform about this, also warning them to watch their step – there was quite the fall if one somehow managed to slip off the platform. Of course, SD had already managed to make it through worse with nary a scratch, but most people were a lot squishier inside.

A new message popped up: _We will need to jump. Are you ready?_

 _The last time you said that, you didn't wait until I was ready._

SD was practically yanked to her feet by the woman's iron grip.

 _True._

And then SD felt a pull at her arm, forcing her to run forward or be dragged. The breath left her artificial lungs as she leapt forward from the top of the train, her legs flailing in the air. Before she could even think about how she had never wanted to be an acrobat, she smacked down onto the platform, landing solidly on her own two feet.

Now was her chance.

SD used the momentum from her fall to bend her knees, dropping low to the ground and twisting to the side. A rush went through her when she felt those fingers leave her arm. She ended up falling over, just barely catching herself with a hand. She kept the motion going, rolling sideways much like a pencil before recovering, launching herself to her feet and breaking into a run. The cloaking field had faded from her at this point, eliciting a few surprised gasps from the people around her, especially when she began to push them aside, doing her best to slip in between any openings she could find.

There! She had made it through the worst of it, and now one of the stairways was visible in front of her, leading downward to freedom. Her shoe – of a delicate make never meant for the ravages of the outside world – met the first of the metal steps, slightly slick from the rain, and she hurried down with an awkward gait, one hand slipping along on the railing beside her.

Soon enough, she was at the bottom, finding herself on a wide sidewalk somewhere in one of the dozens of districts within Lastation. The four-lane street in front of her was lined to the brim with cars, racing down the road as fast as the speed limit would permit them, creating blurry streaks of red and white lights in her vision. Across the street was a massive digital screen on the side of a building, advertising the latest in some kind of medical treatment, and beneath that, a series of ad-plastered storefronts stretching to either side as far as she could see.

She chided herself for her hesitation, picking a direction and launching into a run once more. The gritty material of the sidewalk felt strange beneath her shoes, and the explosion of lights and colors around her rendered the world into confusion. It was all so… _loud._ She could hardly make heads or tails of anything meeting her senses, so instead she kept her focus entirely on weaving her way through the endless parade of citizens minding their own business. Left, right, forward…

Her feet dragged against the ground when she was suddenly yanked backward, causing her to fall painfully onto her rump. Her arm was being held above her head, something grasping it with all the force of the dead.

A sinking feeling went through her, icy and horrible, made only worse by the rain that was serving to soak and chill her clothes.

 _Do not try that again._

SD nodded pitifully, doing her best not to cry as a few tears worked to make her vision into even more of a disorienting mess than it already was.

* * *

"Cave? Cave. _CAVE!_ "

A grimace shot across Cave's face, the volume in her radio lowering automatically. She raised a hand to tap a spot near the base of her ear. "There is no need to yell, Dengekiko."

"Well, _gee._ You didn't seem to hear me earlier when I _wasn't_ yelling."

Cave nodded, although the person on the other end of the conversation wasn't present to see her. "Of course. My apologies. It took some time to reacquire synchronization after I was temporarily disabled. The method of encryption we have agreed to use only provides reliable connectivity under ideal conditions."

"'Temporarily disabled…'" Dengekiko muttered. "Ehh…more like 'knocked out' with a side helping of 'totally almost died…'"

"Numerous situations have arisen in my life which could have ended it. I survived and completed the task at hand. That is all that matters."

An irritated groan could be heard in Cave's ear. " _Anyway,_ I _did_ manage to catch that the girl gave you some trouble, even _after_ you almost killed yourself rescuing her. I hope it was all worth it."

"Mr. Ohga was quite pleased to have SuperDisc recovered. He conveyed that Mr. Kutaragi was also looking forward to seeing his daughter again. Mr. Ohga promised that delivery of payment would be swift, although I have admittedly not yet checked to see if the transferal of funds was completed."

"Yeah…'daughter…'" There was a pause before Dengekiko asked, "So you're going to the hospital, right?"

"Actually, I am currently relaxing in the comfort of my own home." As if to emphasize the point, Cave shifted to the side, causing an audible sloshing of water.

"You can't be serious! You're busy taking a bath when you could have… _brain hemorrhaging,_ or something?!"

Cave gave a glare at the wall across from her. "Systems diagnostics indicated no potential long-term issues. The greatest concern at the moment is allowing myself to recharge. Thus, I have placed myself in a scenario in which my energy consumption is quite low."

"But you don't know—"

"My apologies, Dengekiko. It appears that I have a phone call."

Cave reached over to a low table beside the bathtub to retrieve the vibrating phone, noting that she did not recognize the phone number. "Moshi moshi."

"Hello, _detective._ Your latest actions are impressive, indeed."

Cave's eyes narrowed, her grip on the phone tightening slightly. Whoever was speaking to her was using a voice filter, but even still, the condescending tone was impossible to miss. "Speak your business, if you would."

"Of course, of _course._ I am sure that you have a busy schedule, detective, so I will not take too much of your time. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Kenji."

Whoever this "Mr. Kenji" was certainly didn't sound like he was in a hurry, his words having a rather slow, dramatic drawl. "Okay, 'Mr. Kenji.' You must already be aware of myself to have made this phone call. No doubt you seek to make use of the services that I offer."

"Yes, of course. You have quite the reputation among…certain circles, after all. I have a proposition for you – one that I am sure you will find enticing. Hah."

Cave's head lolled to the side as she waited for this man to get to the point.

"I would like to hire you to find someone for me…"

That seemed routine enough.

"…and your payment will be to the tune of, oh, say…ten million credits."

Cave jolted upright, splashing some water out of the tub. "Surely you speak in _jest._ "

A humorless laugh was audible over the phone – an oddly warped sound, when placed through the filter. "Have I gotten your _attention,_ detective? I assure you that this is no joke. I do not seek out the greatest 'prrrivate investigator' in all of Lastation for a mere kidnapping."

The "prrrivate investigator" let out a quiet breath, propping an elbow on the side of the tub. "Very well, Mr. Kenji. Let us discuss our terms."

"Ah, but I am afraid that there is little to discuss. You will find this person for me, and I will arrange payment to be sent to you – discreetly. Simple, no?" There was a muted chuckle. "As a show of faith for the scrupulous detective, I will even forward a small portion of the payment to you, should you accept."

Of course. They all knew how to dangle a bait. "I need a description, Mr. Kenji. A name, perhaps."

"Hah. Patience will do you some good, young one."

Cave practically cringed at those words – she was far past being a Christmas cake.

"Luckily, I am not looking to hire one with patience. The person you seek is known only as Secret."

"I would politely provide a reminder that I have not yet agreed to accept this job, Mr. Kenji." With that out of the way, Cave continued, "Can you provide any further information about this 'Secret?'"

"Only that 'Secret' is a pseudonym. But I am sure that you surmised as much, hm?"

"That is…not much to go on, Mr. Kenji. I must insist that any detail you may be able to give could be crucial to the successful completion of this task."

"Hmmm…" There was a pause on the other end. "This person is someone powerful – someone _important._ Their name is a whisper on the wind, and I am far from the only one to seek this name. Many have tried and failed to uncover the truth behind such a Secret."

"So you wish for me to chase down an urban legend, then."

" _Yes._ "

The word was spoken with such certainty that Cave was taken aback. A quiet moment passed as Cave considered the offer. "Very well, Mr. Kenji. I will tentatively accept this task, on the condition that I cannot promise never-before-seen results. Normally, I would not add such a condition, but I cannot be faulted for being unable to track down something that may not exist."

"Of course. But there will be results. We both know there will be."

 _Beep._

Cave stared at the phone in her hand for a time, not quite certain how to process the conversation that had just been had. Setting the phone back on its table, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drop further down into the water.

Something told her this was going to be the last chance to relax for a long, long time.

* * *

"Did you catch all of that?"

"Yep. Even caught the tire-deflating sigh at the end of it." Dengekiko swiveled around in her chair as she thumbed through her phone, the glow from it and no less than four computer monitors displaying against her eyes. "Sounds like you're not too fond of this job."

"He was toying with me."

Dengekiko grabbed the edge of the desk to prematurely stop her spin, turning her attention to the monitor on which the application responsible for holding an encrypted conversation could be found. "Eh? What do you mean?"

"Ten million credits. That alone is enough to decry this as a ruse. A prank, perhaps. Yet, if it is a prank, a great deal of effort must have been required to learn to contact me."

"Ehh…you're not that hard to find, Cave. You have an office, right? Plus, you've been in the news before."

"'PI Gives Crime Lord Poke in the Eye.' I remember. I can only assume that it was your doing."

A nervous chuckle came from Dengekiko as her attention returned to her phone, which had received seventeen new messages in the interim. "You're practically _made_ of newspapers, Cave! _Everyone_ loves that dour pout! It makes you…mysterious. _Enticing._ "

"Perhaps that would be relevant if printed newspapers still existed."

Dengekiko gave a frown of her own toward the compact speaker on one side of the desk that Cave's voice was coming from. "Okay, _Ms. Curmudgeon._ _Aaaanyway,_ while you were busy chatting it up with our 'Mr. Kenji,' I managed to get some intel for ya."

"Your network of contacts never does cease to amaze, I must admit."

Dengekiko jabbed a thumb at herself. "Hah! And that's why you love me!"

An awkward silence passed before Cave said, "I am not even sure why I am considering pursuing such a goose chase, but—"

"And _that's_ why you phoned a friend!"

"Actually—"

That was Dengekiko's cue. She quickly rolled over to a monitor, reaching her hands up to begin tapping away on the holographic keyboard that appeared. "I've been asking all over for this 'Secret' guy, and initial responses aren't too promising. Getting a lot of hits on the popular dark web sites, though. Looks like it's one of those rumors that everyone likes to chat about."

"The persistence of a rumor, especially on anonymous discussion boards, does not necessarily speak to its legitimacy."

" _Bah,_ I say to that. Clearly, you've never been on N-Chan before." Dengekiko cleared her throat, lightly tapping a fist to her chest. "So, here's what I've got that I'm positive on. First of all, that Mr. Kenji guy? Totally not a guy. I mean, come on, you could hear the sultriness just _dripping_ on those words right _through_ that stupid filter."

"Oh? Given how many of Lastation's elite are men, I had hardly thought to question the sex of the obvious pseudonym."

"Second thing," Dengekiko said, scrolling through her phone to get to some previous messages. "Mr. Kenji – or _Ms._ Kenji – was definitely calling you from somewhere in Lastation City."

"Hm. That is how caller ID identified the location, but it is entirely possible for one to use a proxy phone number."

"Yeah, well, I had someone trace the call. The number was totally fake, but it wasn't hard to at least figure out that the call was held inside Lastation's city limits. More than that, we couldn't get without going into risky territory."

"That hardly limits the list of suspects, given that Lastation is the most populated city in the Union."

Dengekiko pressed a fist to her mouth, her face scrunching up in thought. "Hmmm. If I had to guess, I'd say it _has_ to be someone you'd find among the kind of people you hang out with."

"Oh?"

"Eh, you know...traffickers, hitmen, spies, information brokers, executive vice presidents…the usual crowd."

"You are implying that I 'hang out' with such individuals?"

"Something like that." Dengekiko reached over to grab a tall can that happened to be sitting on her desk, eyes still glued to the monitor. She knocked the can back, disappointment at its lack of weight being alleviated by the few drops that fell out onto her tongue. She slammed it back down with a distinct _clunk_ before rolling over to another monitor. "Okay. I think I have _just_ the place to check out."

There was no response.

Dengekiko took that to mean she should continue. Her eyes swept the monitor, absorbing the information on display. "You're gonna like this – it's a bar. A _secret_ bar. Eh? _Eh?_ "

Still no response.

"Isn't that just the coolest?! It's totally like you're in one of those nowaru stories or whatever!"

This time, the reporter made damn sure to wait for a reply – she wasn't wasting her energy for nothing. Finally, Cave muttered, "Whether or not it is 'cool' is irrelevant."

The reporter dropped her head to the desk, letting out an exasperated sigh of her own. "Oh, _cheer up,_ would ya, Cave? You're really killing the mood."

"That is not possible, I am afraid."

For most people, that could – and should – be interpreted as snark. Yet, someone like Cave could manage to say something like that and totally mean it. A series of sounds ending in water gurgling down a drain came over the speaker.

"Send the details to my phone. I will be heading out shortly."

A look of dismay definitely formed on Dengekiko's face. "Ehh…you're going tonight?"

"Of course. I will be in touch again soon. As always, thank you for your assistance, Dengekiko."

"Oooookay. Bye, Cave."


	3. Aged Like a Fine Wine

_Everything had its place in Lastation._

 _The trains ran on time in Lastation – no exceptions._

The world went by in a blur of light and shadow, a mess of colors painting a rainbow for the eyes to content themselves with. A persistent low murmur was all around, along with the slightest of hums in the background, which served as a comforting reminder that one had not simply been launched out of a cannon and was soon to hit the ground.

Cave blinked, gripping the armrests of her chair a little tighter, her attention lurching away from the dizzying display visible through the window beside her. She had never found public transportation to be a pleasant experience – although being seated inside was assuredly more relaxing than hitching a ride on the roof. How fortunate it was that Lastation's rail network had advanced to the point where the days of being forced to stand, the dense crowds packed in like sardines, was now mostly a memory. Cave had long ago lost count of the number of fingers she had broken that belonged to would-be opportunists.

"In one minute, we will be arriving at Mishima Station," a pleasant voice chimed in over the PA system. "Please relax and remain seated as we approach the station. Thank you!"

The ambience of the cabin shifted slightly as its passengers prepared for the inevitable deceleration. Cave regarded the lady in the seat next to her own with some amusement, noting that the blazer-clad woman was slouched as much as her chair would allow, her nose practically buried in her phone. No doubt she was one of many who made this trip as part of her daily commute.

"Now arriving at Mishima Station."

The train slowed to a smooth stop, although the hiss of steam or revving down of an engine one might expect was not present. A _ding_ could be heard over the speaker along with a word of caution, followed by the doors of the train sliding open on one side. Cave felt a tension lift from her shoulders as she breathed a quiet sigh of relief, the train quickly becoming a hive of activity. She blended into the flow of people with ease, stepping out into the above-ground station and making her way to the exit, a set of stairs leading down to street level.

 _Long ago, the Mishima district had been a site of rapid growth during Lastation's industrial renaissance. Named after one of the founding families of the city, this locale had once been a source of pride for Lastation. Now, it lay old and decrepit, nearly forgotten – a vestigial element in the midst of a populace that sought to move ever onward._

 _But anyone with a keen eye could see that there was no such thing as an abandoned lot in Lastation City, no matter what appearances – or public records – might suggest._

Here, the ever-present luminescence of the city wrested for control with the long, deep shadows of night. The lights seem darker…sicklier, with their faded yellow-orange bulbs of yesteryear, hanging overhead in the center of the road like outstretched octopi. The famed skyscrapers of Lastation were not to be found here – humble structures sat alongside the roads like so many squatters, out of place and out of time. Many were unlit, some of them seeming to be condemned or half-finished, the paint peeling and the antique brickwork cracked and uneven. The crowd was thin, and those few who walked these streets after sunset were in even more of a hurry than usual, quickly turning their eyes away whenever they met another's.

One might stop and stare, perhaps scratching their head, as they saw a woman in an oddly stylish suit step into a building that looked to have been left to the dogs years ago. The inside revealed that it had once been an apartment complex or hotel, the front desk now serving as one of the few recognizable pieces of furniture in the entrance area. The floor seemed to have last been cleaned over a century ago, being coated in a layer of plastic wrappers, empty cans, and other sundry bits of trash.

No source of light was present in the lobby, the only illumination being the glow of the streetlights shining in through the cracked and broken windows. This did not bother Cave in the least as she headed down the hall, which grew ever darker, until not even the faintest ray of outside light was there to meet one's eyes. A few crinkles and crunches met her ears between the muted thuds of her footsteps, her boots pressing abandoned trash further into the ruined carpet.

 _Everyone knew on some level that there were places that not even the Goddess Herself would dare step Her divine toes in. The air in these kinds of dens tended to have a certain heaviness to it, the shadows seeming to be of a more impenetrable darkness than was natural. Perhaps the aura of evil permitted such a thing._

Soon, the investigator reached the emergency door in the back, which was conveniently labeled with a red "EXIT" sign overhead, still being provided with power by some unknown source. No alarm sounded as she pressed a hand to the bar, pushing the door open with ease.

A wall of darkness awaited ahead to the unaided eye, filled with all the many demons the imagination may see. Cave slowly closed the door behind her, nose wrinkling as the faint stench of alcohol wafted up to her. The outline of a narrow, dingy alley met her enhanced sight. The trash was even denser here, a number of emptied bottles and cans being littered along the sides of the alley, as if a path had been pushed through the junk.

A quick assessment would determine that the alley appeared to be walled off on all sides. One was to wonder if this void zone was even marked on the various maps of Lastation.

A brief walk down the alley took Cave over to a battered metal door along the wall opposite from her entrance. She paused for but a moment, an uncharacteristic hesitation overtaking her nerves. Then, raising a hand, she reached toward the door, absentmindedly noting that her fingers were lit up like candles to her sight in contrast with the shadowy backdrop.

"Come on in."

Cave fought the urge to jump at the sound of the deep, rumbling voice. A tiny slit had been opened at neck height on the door, from which a pair of blue-white eyes stared back at her with an unearthly glow. Those eyes lingered for a time before the slit was slid back shut, a set of footsteps thudding away.

 _Perhaps I will be tangling with a dragon, then._

She let out a breath, chiding herself for being on edge. Then, as she moved to open the door, she chided herself again for not being more cautious.

A series of low, moody lights were revealed within, the shroud of darkness being peeled back only reluctantly. Ahead, a small, outdated television displaying the latest from Lastation State News hung from the ceiling behind a backlit bar, where the bartender herself could be seen leaning forward, not bothering to hide how she was sizing up her latest visitor. Curiously, a pair of dark, cat-like ears could be seen perking up from the woman's cascade of silvery hair, her eyes reflecting with a brilliant blue.

Cave stepped forward onto the black floor tiles, keeping her attention directed forward as she shut the door behind her. Immediately, she was assaulted with a bitter, stale warmth that offended the senses with its sting. The din inside was muffled, punctuated with murmured speech and layered with a low track of synth-pop that Cave vaguely recognized as having been popular while she was still a resident of Leanbox.

The investigator's nose flared ever so slightly. The taste of nostalgia was less than sweet.

Much of the room's illumination was provided by a series of LED light panels integrated into the ceiling, currently programmed to glow a dim neon-orange. Between the bar and the entrance was a loose assortment of chairs and tables, simple affairs made of metal, plastic, and synthetic leather. Stretching on either side was a series of tables with booths, ending toward the back of the room, where one would strain to make out any detail.

An eclectic assortment of patrons was present, seeming to consist of every single member of what one might consider to be the wrong crowd. Many of them would be certain to draw attention were they not all together in one place. Indeed, nearly everyone within the room possessed unnatural eyes, metal arms, weaponized hands, or an extra limb or five. The collective value of enhancements on display must have been well over a million credits – perhaps twice that with the intruder now in their midst.

There was a sudden shift in the ambience as Cave moved a few steps in. Stares, pointed fingers, and muttered rumors were coming from every corner within the room. Cave's eyes narrowed, returning the glares coming from all around.

 _You have quite the reputation among…certain circles, after all._

 _Detective._

A grunt sounded from beside Cave, causing her to stop. She forced herself to turn slowly at the sound, the shape of a massive humanoid figure coming into view like a great, dark mountain. Her head tilted up to meet that same pair of eyes that had stared at her through the door.

"The name's Paste. Copypaste."

Cave gave a muted snort of her own, struggling to make out any more of the man's features even with her enhanced vision. "That's quite a name."

"Comes with the territory, _Cave._ "

The investigator raised a brow. At the very least, it was obvious that this man was heavily altered. The outline of his body was blocky, as if covered in some kind of armor, and those eyes were no doubt mechanical. There were few people in the world who would undergo such extensive transformation by choice. Even fewer would opt for such a dubious modification as anti-infrared coating.

"Well? Go on. Make yourself comfortable. They're all eager to meet their worst nightmare, I assure you."

That managed to get a slight chuckle out of Cave. "If you have allowed me inside in hope of a fight, then I am afraid that you will be sorely disappointed."

A boisterous belly laugh came from Copypaste, loud enough to cause Cave to wince. "Ah, but it is never too late to exchange war stories, at the very least, sister!" He let out another shorter laugh before adding, "But of course, you're here on business, right? Another day, another time, maybe?"

The tiniest of smiles appeared on Cave's mouth. "Perhaps."

She could just make out Copypaste give an exaggerated nod. "Perhaps, indeed."

Cave's smile fell almost immediately as she turned to step toward the bar. The proprietor continued to give a blank stare as Cave approached, a few patrons seated nearby shifting to get a better view.

"I am surprised." A quiet voice with all the grace of sandpaper came from the catgirl behind the bar.

Cave returned the bartender's stony expression with one of her own, fighting off the prickling sensation of being watched. "Oh? Are you, now?"

"Yes."

The two were left in an uncomfortable silence, giving Cave enough time to make a more detailed analysis of her surroundings. The offerings on display here seemed legitimate enough, and quite varied, too – wines, spirits, and more awaited in dozens of colorfully labelled bottles. She noted in the reflection on several of the bottles that a small monitor was hidden behind the bar, which she could just make out as a screen with four windows open.

 _Camera feeds?_

Cave's eyes wandered elsewhere, finding that the shadows upon the walls concealed an assortment of knick-knacks, some of them placed upon shelves, and others hanging from racks. Swords, shields, wands, staves, magic orbs, monstrous horns, and more were all present, as if a tapestry of trophies was on display. Yet, just as many – an old hemp amulet within a glass case, a tiny, weatherworn statue of a cat once used as a sign of fortune, and various photographs of places far from the grand cityscape of Lastation, among others – seemed to serve as mementos of times past, devoid of any real value.

"You are Cave…war hound of the Goddess," the bartender spoke slowly. "You should not be here in the territory of this lowly lioness. Yet, you've returned, not once, but twice."

This catgirl may have had the world's greatest poker face, but the ears flattening sideways on her head were easy enough to spot. Cave forced a tiny, reassuring grin onto her face. "Hmph. My days of bringing the fear of the Goddess into the citizenry have since passed. You can consider me retired."

A few rapid blinks came from the catgirl. Then, she stepped back and stooped down to retrieve something from behind the bar. The distinctive _chink_ of an antique, flip-top lighter cut through the air before it was raised to a cigarette now held in the bartender's mouth. She made a few long, rapturous drags, tilting her head up to blow the smoke into a soundless vent on the ceiling. Her ears seemed to relax, her eyes closing as she dropped an elbow onto the bar, head pressed to her hand.

"Cave is sweet and poor for my health like sugary candy."

The little smile on Cave's face faltered, her nose wilting at the acrid odor that was filling the room with new intensity. The temptation to point out the cigarette still lit between two of the bartender's fingers was hard to resist. No matter how smooth this woman's porcelain features may have been, there was no hiding that ragged, hoarse drawl.

"I would hardly call myself 'sweet,' Stella. I cannot deny that my presence does and should unnerve you, however."

The moment lingered on, a stream of smoke rising from the cigarette, before it was again raised to the bartender's mouth. Cave merely watched in silence as Stella continued to act on her vice, breathing in that foul-smelling substance as if it was the purest of ambrosia. Finally, when the cigarette was hardly large enough to place one's fingers around it safely, it was squashed into a glass ashtray on the bar – Cave noted that quite the pile was there.

"Please – call me Felistella." The poker face had returned.

"Ah. More has changed in my absence than just the addition of feline features, then, I see."

Felistella's eyes turned aside briefly, her fingers playing upon the bar as if they weren't quite sure what to do with themselves. "I…suppose you never would have met Felis."

"No. I suppose not. A friend of yours, then?"

"He…" The woman paused, gaze fixed upon something in the distance. A strange sort of twinkle became visible in her eye – its nature was revealed when a blink caused a teardrop to fall to the bar's surface.

Another long silence threatened to pass, this one heavier than the last. Cave decided that it would be best to interrupt. "Forgive me. There is no need to explain if you do not wish to."

The wryest of smiles formed on the corner of Felistella's mouth. "I must be the saddest excuse for a catgirl you've ever seen." She raised a hand to wipe a tear away. "That's what these holes in the wall are, y'know – homes for all the sadness in Gamindustri. We've always liked to hide that away behind closed doors. Even when times were good…" Her words trailed off, her eyes again moving away. Suddenly, she leaned forward, arms placed on the bar. A pleasant, if reticent, smile was present on her face. "Cave would not come just to hear an old girl mope about bygones. Is there anything in particular I can get you? Something to celebrate your retirement, maybe?"

A certain _twinge_ seemed to stir within Cave, her unwavering gaze softening ever so slightly. There was more than a hint of youth – of _energy_ – within that smile, and yet it was all too clear that the bartender was forever saddled – _sullied_ – with the weariness of age. It almost seemed…unfair.

 _Retirement…_

There was hardly another word that was quite as quaint in Cave's view. She was witnessing just what "retirement" entailed right before her very eyes. The last time Cave had trekked her way into here, Stella – Felistella – hadn't had a single trace of gray in her hair.

It took effort for Cave to stomach the idea that she was more than a decade older than the small-statured bartender.

"Are you having a hard time deciding? Or is it something else?" Felistella asked, her gaze growing questioning. "You're not afraid I'll poison it, I hope?"

Cave blinked, belatedly realizing that she'd been lost in thought. She opened her mouth to give what seemed to be an automated response before deciding against it, once again feeling the stares of an entire room being trained on her like a team of snipers. It didn't take decades of professional experience to know that they were listening in. Her ears picked up a few words here and there, doing a little eavesdropping of her own.

"…got a sweet spot for our girl here…"

"…supposed to be some kind of badass supercop, right?"

"…once saw her kill, like, fifteen guys, with a _pencil…_ "

"Hey! Are you gonna answer the lady's question or not?!"

One voice rang out much, _much_ louder than the others. Cave turned her head to the side – but not _too_ quickly – to find an enormous armored figure standing there, arms crossed over its chest. It resembled the sort of mecha-inspired toys a young boy might play with, its blocky surface being painted in bright, plastic colors.

"There is no need to be hostile to our guest, Copypaste." Felistella rubbed her forehead as she said this. "Especially not so loudly…"

Copypaste bowed his head ever so slightly, keeping his eyes trained on Cave. "Sorry, my lady. It's just that I grow impatient waiting to see if our guest intends to slight you for a third time in a row."

Cave was quite certain that the robotic man had not been present during her previous visits – no doubt there'd been more than a little hearsay about her. She moved her gaze back to the bartender. "I am having difficulty making a decision, yes. Perhaps it would be better to take a suggestion instead?"

Felistella's eyes narrowed before she stepped back and turned to look over the selection available, finger pressed to her chin. Her ears wiggled just as she reached down to retrieve a bottle, then up to retrieve another. She turned back to the bar, a bottle in each hand. Placing the bottles down with two light _thunks,_ she stooped below the bar, another two _clinks_ coming to the ears. Then, she stood back up, setting a glass containing two cubes of ice onto the bar.

The proprietor paused, a smile broadening on her face as she gave Cave an expectant look. The investigator remained silent, merely watching with interest as Felistella opened one of the bottles to tip it over ever so carefully with both hands, pouring some of its contents into the glass. She then did the same with the other bottle, leaving the glass almost completely full. Finally, she stepped back.

"Please do give it a try. I hope you'll find it to your liking," Felistella said with a nod before moving to put away the bottles.

Cave raised a brow, tilting her head downward to get a closer look at what had been presented. The glass was rather tall, having the profile of a highball. She gingerly lifted it, giving it a careful swirl. The contents within were colored a light, reddish brown, bubbling with vigor to create a layer of foam at the top. Perhaps a connoisseur would have been able to identify the mixture at hand, but to Cave, it looked like any other alcoholic beverage one might find in a can purchased from a vending machine.

There was a chill when the glass touched her lips – already, it was cold from the ice within. The smell meeting her nose was not entirely unpleasant, possessing heady traces of sugar and wood, though it could most closely be likened to flavored medicine. She hesitated for a moment before lifting the glass ever so slightly, drinking down a small sip of the mixture.

There was a _clunk_ as the glass was set back upon the bar.

"Do you…not like it?" Felistella questioned. Her hands were placed in front of her, fingers interlocked as she bobbed back and forth on her toes.

"It is…sweeter than expected. Yet, there is an undercurrent that burns with a strange warmth beneath the ice." Cave waited another moment for the aftertaste to come out in full – it was much like a spicy, bittersweet syrup coating and numbing her throat. "I suppose it is an acquired taste."

"Ah." Felistella's ears drooped a little, her motions halting. "It does suit you, though, I think. Was I wrong?"

A hot flush went through Cave as she considered just what was meant by that. Her mouth tightened imperceptibly before she let a long breath out through her nose. "How should payment be delivered?"

"Y-You don't have to pay anything if you don't like—"

The glass was snatched and brought bottoms-up in one lightning-fast motion. Several gulps later, it was slammed back down onto the bar, now empty aside from the two slivers of half-melted ice at the bottom.

A barking laugh came from Copypaste. "It seems we may have a new contender for the record books on our hands, eh?"

Felistella was back to locking her fingers together, her ears flatter than ever. "I-I only deal in physical currency. F-Five hundred eighty credits."

Cave wasted no time in retrieving a one thousand credit paper bill, quickly returning her wallet to the inner coat pocket she kept it within.

The bartender's eyes went wide when she lifted the bill to bring it closer to a light. "This is…Leanbox currency? From all those years ago?" She tilted her head to the side quizzically. "Mm…I'm afraid I don't recognize the portrait."

Despite all of the eyes trained on Cave, none of them would have been able to perceive the unnamable feeling that those words brought upon her. "Please do keep the change," she said, the corners of her mouth twisting into a forced smile.

Felistella gulped, giving a nod as she moved to place the money in the cash register nearby. Of course, the bill was valueless as currency, given that it was not legal tender, but it was worth a great deal indeed to the right person – one brave enough to risk an accusation of heresy for the sake of historical accuracy.

There was a low chuckle, so quiet as to be mistaken for some distant noise in the background. "You always were an old school kind of woman, weren't you?"

That gruff, gravelly voice gave Cave pause as she turned to the side opposite of Copypaste. There, several stools down, sat a man with a wide glass of whiskey in his hand, which he brought up for a long gulp, his face twisting a little at the taste. He was as nondescript as could be, his hair dark and short, his face adorned with heavy stubble, his attire consisting of a black t-shirt, a pair of clean blue jeans, and a set of sneakers suited to urban exploration. He looked for all the world to be a broody antihero doing his best to remain incognito, his lack of unique features giving a distinctness of its own.

"My apologies. I do not believe we've met." Cave was practically burrowing a target into the side of the man's head with her eyes.

Another humorless chuckle came from him. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He gave the glass one last swig before setting it down, grunting as he turned on the stool to face Cave. "People call me the Fisherman, just in case you needed a name to go by. Used to be the 'Three-Eyed Demon' to these fine ladies and gentlemen here in Lastation. But I think we can both agree that names aren't all they're cracked up to be. Isn't that right, Cave?"

A single blink was all the indication Cave gave that she recognized the moniker – and that dry, sardonic tone.

"Surprised to see me? Well, the feeling's not mutual." The man raised his empty glass as if giving her a salute. "Here's to you, me, and all the other celebrities who fall down to the ass end of the world. Welcome to the club."


	4. A Cat, a Rat, and a Peacock…

"… _And now, back to Lastation's very own official State News. I'm your host, Dengekiko, here to bring you the stories that matter, with the facts that you need. We begin this segment with a friendly report on our neighbors from Leanbox. Recently, cities all across Lastation have seen a dramatic rise in the number of immigrants from the Land of Green Pastures. While it is understandable that many wish to come to our great nation's greener pastures, this unprecedented exodus across the sea can raise some questions – what has triggered this influx of weary souls, and, more importantly, how will you be affected? This is a special Dengeki team repor—"_

The screen flickered off with a dramatic flash.

"Good riddance. I thought that woman was going to talk my _head_ off!"

Cave regarded the lantern-jawed machine man to her side with some amusement, even as she winced at the overwhelming bellow that was his voice.

"You're one to talk, Voltron," spoke the man sitting to Cave's other side. He set the TV's tiny remote down before giving it a hard pluck with his fingers, causing it to spin as it slid some distance down the bar, where it was stopped by a frail hand.

"Please do not do that," croaked Felistella, whisking the remote away and placing it on a cluttered shelf behind the bar. "It would be very unfortunate for anyone who managed to break something on these grounds."

The Fisherman reached a hand up to scratch at the salt-and-pepper scruff on his neck. "And here I was thinking you were in a good mood."

" _I am._ " Felistella planted her hands in a wide stance on the bar and leaned forward, a subtle intensity in her eyes.

The smirk that had been on the Fisherman's mouth wilted away. Somehow, he found that his gaze was unable to meet that of the tiny catgirl currently staring at him. He turned his head away before uttering one very simple word: "Sorry."

A heaviness set over the room, the ambience dropping to a low hush. Not a single person clinging to the shadows and whispering from the fringes had missed that exchange.

"Ha- _hah!_ It seems that you are humbled, old man!" Copypaste roared, following this up with a heavy belly laugh. "Even a 'celebrity' like _you_ can show some respect, huh?"

"Copypaste." That had been Felistella, who was shooting him a look from the corner of her eye.

The pastel-colored man bowed his head. "My apologies, dear lady."

Again, the air grew heavy. The quiet became prolonged, quickly turning awkward for those drawing attention from every corner of the room.

Cave raised a hand to her mouth, clearing her throat as audibly as she could. "You are from Leanbox, are you not, Mr. Fisherman?"

His smirk returned. "Hah. Is that what they're telling folks now?" When he saw the ice cold look on Cave's face, the Fisherman shifted uncomfortably on his barstool. "Yeah, I hopped across the pond to get here, just like yourself. Can't say I miss the ol' Land of Green Pastures too much. It's worship, death, and taxes anywhere you go." He cleared his throat before spinning to face the bartender and sliding his glass toward her. "Get me another drink, would you?"

Felistella caught the tumbler with an iron grip, throwing that same stare from before at the Fisherman.

"Please," the man added with the faintest edge of sarcasm.

Cave had to stifle a chuckle as she watched Felistella head straight for a brand of whiskey that the investigator recognized as being imported from Leanbox. The bartender wordlessly poured out some of the brown liquid into the glass and set it in front of the Fisherman, who took a heavy swig, knocking it back like a delicious cream soda. A moment passed as he recovered, eventually managing to unscrunch his face before pulling a wad of cash from his pocket and handing it to the catgirl waiting expectantly in front of him.

"Thank you for your patronage," said Felistella, still eyeing the man with scrutiny as she counted the money before putting it and the bottle of whiskey away. She then turned her attention to Cave. "Please, do have a seat. I promise that you will come to no harm here."

Again, Cave was forced to hold back a laugh. Felistella's tune had changed immediately, almost like flipping a light switch. "I do not mean offense, Felistella. I am comfortable enough with standing."

"Allow me to at least pour you another drink."

Cave's mouth tightened as she stared down at the bartender, noting the almost pleading look in the woman's eyes.

There was the sensation of movement from the corner of Cave's vision – Copypaste had taken a slight step toward her.

"I am sated for now," said Cave, having tensed up at Copypaste's motion. "I do not plan to remain for long, as it is."

"Really, now?" The words came from the Fisherman, who had already finished his latest glass of whiskey. "You show up out of nowhere for a quick chat, and then you're going to just leave? I'm hurt. Truly."

This time, Cave couldn't resist the urge to at least roll her eyes. "Save the act for the fangirls, Fisher. I have not the patience for your _mating ritual._ "

There was a round of chuckles and chortles from the patrons listening in – and from Copypaste, who refrained from commentary aside from his hearty laugh.

"Fangirls, huh?" The Fisherman raised a brow as he made one of those grunts. "You know, just yesterday, we had a lady asking around in here for you – long black hair, nice heavy rack, scary red eyes. Couldn't have been any more out of place. I showed her the ropes, even offered to give her an autograph, but all she wanted was Cave, Cave, Cave."

The audience reacted with a second wave of laughter, louder this time. Cave's face was beginning to flush – but her curiosity was piqued, as well. "Is the woman's identity known?"

"Now, now, Cave. You know that intel doesn't come for free in this business."

Cave raised a brow of her own. "Oh? I was under the impression that you were retired."

"Heh. Speak for yourself." He must've decided that Cave's glare was a little too genuine, as he then added, "Hey – how about a trade? You tell us why you've suddenly decided to sink down to our level, and I'll be a nice little boy and snitch on whichever poor, soon-to-be-inside-out shmuck brought you to us."

That glare continued for a time. Was it so obvious that she was here on the prowl? Finally, Cave gave the slightest of nods. "Very well. These terms are acceptable."

The man chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "Yeah. Sure." He then leaned nonchalantly over to the side, laying one arm on the counter. " _So,_ Cave – I think it's about time you tell us all why you're _really_ back from the void. I think you owe it to ol' Felistella here, at the least, right?"

A sigh came from Cave as she closed her eyes momentarily. "Very well, then." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I have come in search of the one known as Secret. I had been under the assumption that at least one unscrupulous individual here would have been willing to provide a lead. I am hoping that I was not mistaken."

The man's grin grew ever wider as the muttering and whispering in the background rose to a new level. "Secret, huh?" He shook his head disapprovingly. "Cave, Cave, _Cave._ Don't you have better things to do than chase after some boogeyman a bunch of kids came up with? What's next on the list – Slenderman?"

That got a few laughs out of the patrons, but others had taken to glancing about anxiously.

Cave's face remained as stony as ever. "If no one here is capable of providing information on the subject, then I will be taking my leave." She turned to Felistella, giving a slight bow. "My apologies. You have my assurance that I will not be disturbing you again."

The bartender reached out a hand, even as Cave abruptly spun on her heel. "Cave—"

" _Sit. Down._ " That had been the Fisherman, the words spoken through gritted teeth.

The investigator stopped, the abrupt stomping of her foot echoing throughout the room, which had grown completely quiet beyond the warbly voice of a bygone pop idol belting from the radio behind the bar. Eventually, Cave spun back around, slowly sliding onto the empty barstool there and placing her hands together on the counter. She remained silent, her gaze intently focused on the creases in the Fisherman's face.

The man raised a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he said, "Let me give you a little advice, Cave – on the house. Going around screaming that 'I'm a cop' attitude isn't worth a damn thing when you don't have the friends to back you up. All it'd take is a single word from ol' Felistella, and Sir Paste here would be tossing your shiny metal ass out the door."

"It is covered in several layers of artificial lipids, actually," said Cave, the wrinkling of her nose at the musk of the man's cologne being the only motion upon her face.

"Hm." The Fisherman cleared his throat again, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw. "You're still new to this whole 'retired' business, I'll give you that. But, now that the training wheels are off, I think it's about time you learn how to make it out in the wild – and that the rabbit hole goes deeper than you think. Hell, it goes even deeper than _Uncle Kei_ thinks."

Cave allowed him the slight twitch that turned one corner of her mouth upward. "I am well-acquainted with the depths of the 'rabbit hole,' Mr. Fisherman."

A low chuckle came from the man. "We'll see about that."

Just then, a small shape emerged from the shadows in the back of the room. "Yo, Felistella, we're running low on dish deter— _CHUUUU!_ " A high-pitched screech _rent_ the air with all the force of a gunshot.

Felistella jumped about a foot into the air, shrieking in harmony as she clamped her hands over her ears. " _EEEEEEEEEE!_ "

" _WARRRRRECHUUUUU!_ " Copypaste roared, his voice shaking the glasses hanging above the counter. " _YOU HAVE UPSET LADY FELISTELLAAAAAAA!_ "

"Buhbuhbuhbuh…buhbuh…buh…" the rodent man stammered, eyes wide as he stared right at that horribly familiar face sitting at the bar. He raised a stubby hand to point at the source of his distress. "C-c-c-c-c-c… _CAVE!_ Oh crap, she's come to put me in the slammer again! _Gotta run!_ "

Warechu scrambled on his tiny feet to race past the bar, but he was snatched up by one of Copypaste's massive hands.

" _WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING, LITTLE MOUSE?_ "

" _Ghk…_ " The mouse sputtered and choked, being squeezed by the robot's iron grip.

"Please, let him go, Copypaste! You're killing him!" implored Felistella, still holding her hands over her ears. Her voice seemed very quiet in the wake of the cacophony that had just transpired.

Copypaste's head turned between Felistella and Warechu a few times before he finally decided to drop the rodent, who fell with a _thump_ to the floor and lay there, coughing and gasping.

"I think my life just flashed before my eyes, chu…"

Some time passed as Warechu's vision lessened in blurriness, focusing together into one image. Then, when he blinked, he once again saw that face leering down at him. "CH—"

A hand clamped over his mouth. "There will be no more of that noise."

Panic filled the mouse man, and he flailed his limbs uselessly against the floor before he realized that he had one way out.

A sharp stab of pain cause Cave to snatch back. " _KSSSS…_ You miserable _little…_ "

"This rat's bite is bigger than his bark, chu!" Warechu winced at the taste of the blood he licked from his teeth – it had the consistency of some kind of nasty medicinal syrup. He raced for the front door, feeling a little surprised when he actually made it. " _Sayonara,_ chu! I ain't stickin' around to get busted, chu!" With that, he slammed the door shut behind him, hoping to eventually make it to another continent far, far away from that red-headed demon of a woman.

Silence fell over the room, making the ringing in one's ears particularly sharp.

Eventually, a sigh came from Felistella. "I suppose it was too much to expect a mouse to serve under a cat for long." She turned as if to step away, but she halted mid-stride before leaning down to view something behind the bar.

"What is the matter, my lady?" Copypaste asked.

"More trouble, I think," the catgirl answered. "A group. Coming this way. Some of them have bats."

"Hah! Do not fear with thy pretty head, my lady!" The robo-man slapped a fist to his chest as if in salute with a noisy _thunk_. "Sir Copypaste will allow no villain to lay even a single cretinous finger upon thy gentle skin!"

A chuckle came from the Fisherman. "Never a dull moment around here."

As if on cue, a loud _crash_ could be heard coming from the entrance. The metal door now lay upon the floor, having been knocked clean off its hinges. Filtering in through the doorway was a group of eleven in total, all of them clad in jeans and leather jackets, their hair greased up in the most ridiculous of pompadours. Several of them were carrying bats, holding them at either end as if to look more imposing with their broad-shouldered attire.

One of them stepped up from the front of the bunch – a typical young man, albeit with features denoting him as being of Leanbox descent. "Nice to meet ya, fellas." He motioned toward the group behind him, and a pair of men moved forward to toss an object to the floor like a furry sack of potatoes.

"Today is not my day, chuuuuu…" the mouse moaned, lying limp with his tongue lolling out.

"Damn. You _know_ a place's gone to the dogs when there's _rats_ on the floor," said the gang's leader, eliciting some nasty laughs from his underlings. "I like my dives to have at least a _little_ class, ya dig?"

" _NO ONE SHALL LAY A SINGLE CROOKED FINGER UPON HER, I SAID!_ " Copypaste yelled, charging forward, arms outstretched to grab the first unfortunate person in his path, his feet stomping with enough force to shake the floor.

"Copypaste! You could have at least…waited…" The bartender fell into a coughing fit, the act of raising her voice again clearly being painful for her.

" _FOR GREAT JUSTICE, YOU SHALL ALL—_ "

A sound much like that of a bug zapper rang out through the room, followed by an enormous _thud_ that created such a force that one would swear an earthquake was occurring. Several of the baubles placed along the walls clattered to the floor, and at least one bottle was shattered into a thousand shards of glass behind the bar.

From the fallen body of Copypaste, a plume of smoke was rising, the once-colorful shell of his armor covered in blackened streaks.

All Felistella could manage was a breathless, "No…" before her coughing resumed.

"Okay, then. Anyone _else_ in here cruisin' for a bruisin'?" The leader of the bunch placed his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest like some kind of peacock with bad hair.

"Identify yourself."

The young man narrowed his eyes, getting a good look at the backlit silhouette that had approached. Best he could tell, it was taller than almost anyone he'd ever seen and had one hell of an hourglass figure. "Oh, come on!" He turned his head back to glance at the others behind him. "Get a load of this! Can you believe this junk? No respect!" Apparently satisfied by the wave of chuckles and sneers he got, he turned back to his opponent. "We're the Tunnel Snakes! That's us! And we RULE! Got that?"

"Hmph. Petty delinquents or no, you will leave now if you value your life. Consider this your final warning."

The gang leader's smirk fell, his shoulders dropping down a little. "Don't give me that tired old shit! We _own_ this city! Ain't _nobody_ gonna stop the Tunnel Snakes from takin' over! We got ASIC runnin' scared, you dig? And there's only _two_ places to be – with us, or against us. So, which one is it gonna be, _dolly Polly?_ "

Cave remained silent, her eyes scanning over the group arrayed before her. She could see that they were armed with much more than just bats – one of them was still clutching the conducted electrical weapon that had felled Copypaste, while others were inching their hands toward their jackets as if to retrieve concealed firearms. She could also clearly see that none of the patrons in the bar were keen to step up with her.

Of course. She was alone, standing against unfavorable odds. It was hardly an unfamiliar situation, really.

She was accustomed to it, in fact.

There was no witty one-liner, no declaration of battle spouted as Cave leapt into action. Before anyone could even process that she had moved, she was in the thick of it, twisting a man's arm and breaking it at the elbow so that she could retrieve the pistol-shaped device that fell from his hand. In the next instant, she threw it away with such strength that it smashed and broke against the wall, then spun to land a knuckle sandwich right into another man's face.

By this point, those in the room who did not possess reaction speed enhancements had finally realized that something was wrong. This was reinforced when a third man was knocked to the ground, seemingly by some invisible force.

"Active camo! Shit! That just ain't cool!"

A few of the gang members reacted by swinging their fists or their weapons at the air in the vain hope of scoring a knockout blow against their unseen assailant. One of them did at least succeed in smacking a friend right in the back with a bat, who stumbled forward and tripped upon the body of a fallen fellow Tunnel Snake. He gave a shout as he fell, reaching forward by instinct to stop his fall. Amazingly, his hands actually caught upon something – an invisible something.

"Right here! She's right he—"

His words were cut off as he received a chop to the back of the neck.

One after another, the Tunnel Snakes fell, unable to handle the force of nature being unleashed against them. To any outside observer, the scene would seem almost comical as the men appeared to fight themselves in a display of utter incompetence, forming a larger and larger pile upon the floor.

Then, a gunshot rang out. A splatter of red fluid gushed from thin air into the environment, the majority of it splashing onto the floor, but some of it remaining in the air, hanging onto a humanoid outline.

"Got you, bitch! Ha- _hah!_ Yeah!"

There was a second gunshot, and a third. No more blood followed – the bullets _pinged_ against the walls and floor, narrowly missing the bar's patrons and embedding themselves in the structure of the room. Even with her presence revealed, Cave possessed such speed that no untrained human could keep a bead on her. She gave no indication that she felt the wound that had marred her body, continuing on in a whirlwind of violence.

Finally, only a single man remained standing – and, within seconds, he was swept from his feet. He felt his neck tighten with a crushing force, suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe.

"Explain yourself. Who is your leader? What plans do they have in store?"

The visage of a woman slowly faded into existence, starting from the top of her head and working its way downward. Soon, the hand that was currently choking the lights out of the gangster on the floor could be seen.

"You got a lovely face, dolly— _gak._ "

Cave's expression remained neutral as she tightened her grip. "Talk, or you will die. It is a simple choice."

" _Guh_ …I thought heroes were supposed to just knock people out, not kill 'em!"

"I am afraid that the comics you have read are inapplicable to this situation."

"Ffffff…" The man's eyes widened. "How was I supposed to know one of you crazy fuckers would be hanging out here? That just ain't fair, man!"

"Oh? I was unaware that _fairness_ was a _virtue_ to those who rely on _outnumbering their opponents._ Truly, your chivalry knows no bounds."

"Chu! Even a rat like me knows these punks have no honor, _chu!_ "

Cave was surprised to see that Warechu had not only managed to get back on his feet, but was feeling well enough to take up his most imposing posture nearby. He gave the gangster a tiny little kick, which had all the force of a wet noodle behind it.

"You mess with the best, you die like the rest, chu!"

A breathy sigh came from Cave. "You are more than welcome to take over this interrogation if you so desire."

" _Chuuu!_ " The glimmer in Warechu's eyes seemed to fade as he backpedaled at the speed of light, his bravado leaving him in a flash.

"Of course." Cave turned her attention back to the man who was currently attempting to pry her hand from his neck. "If you will not answer my questions, then you are of no further use to me. Furthermore, in accordance with the ancient motto, 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,' I believe that you are owed the equivalent of one bullet wound."

The man's eyes darted to Cave's upper arm, where a small, bloody hole was clearly visible. "I-I ain't tellin' you _squat!_ " he sputtered.

Cave's expression twisted into a scowl for a moment, betraying her irritation.

"I'm a Tunnel Snake! I swore an oath, and I ain't goin' back on it no— _WHOOOOOA!_ "

The investigator had removed her hand from the man's throat, and then in one swift motion lifted him by his jacket, heaving him at the exit with inhuman strength. "I have not the patience for this. Leave, and be grateful that you have survived this encounter."

Some time passed as the gangster lay there dazed from where he had landed upon the broken metal door. He eventually scrambled up to his feet toward the exit before pausing and spinning back around. "You haven't heard the last of the Tunnel Snakes! You got that?!" With that having been said, he ran for it, soon disappearing through the doorway and out of sight.

Another sigh came from Cave. "Was that truly the best line you could think of?" she muttered as she brushed off her coat. She turned toward the bar, giving a deep bow. "I apologize for the trouble I have brought you, Felistella. I—"

Her words were interrupted by a roar of cheers resounding from every corner of the room.

"Yeyeyeyeyeah! That was awesome!"

"Haven't seen a fight like that since NOMAD was still running hot!"

"That is one _scary_ bitch!"

"Where can _I_ learn some moves like that?!"

Cave stood stunned at the response, blinking in confusion. She had almost forgotten that an audience was present – and she had given them exactly what they wanted to see from her.

She then winced when a hand patted her shoulder, spinning and raising her arms in a battle-ready stance.

"Whoa, there, woman! You don't want to go karate chopping me by mistake! And trust me, that would be a _big_ mistake."

Cave narrowly stopped herself from hitting the Fisherman, taking a step back. She let out a breath, forcing herself to relax. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her blood pumping and her body burning hot. The mix of chemicals that replaced adrenaline in her body was potent, acting quickly and lasting quite some time. "I suppose they are satisfied with the bloodlust?"

"Heh. That was a hell of a show. We used to get fights in here all the time until Copypaste came along, but nothing like _that._ Don't think Felistella's going to be too happy, though."

Cave glanced toward the bartender, who was staring blankly at the pile of bodies on the floor. The investigator's attention was then caught by the silhouette of mouse ears present in front of the bar. She stepped over toward the rat, who looked as if he was about to make another break for it.

"Buh…buh…buhbuhbuh…buh…" Warechu stammered, shaking visibly.

"I did not appreciate the sinking of your teeth into my flesh," said Cave.

"BUH…BUHBUHBUHBUH…"

"However, I will be willing to forgive such a slight, as I have no wish to cause more disturbance within Felistella's place of work."

"…Buh?" Warechu suddenly stood up a little straighter. "I mean, uh, that's right, chu! How could you make Felistella so sad, chu?!"

"That, of course, does not exempt you from the rule of law, given that you are a known fugitive."

" _CHUUUU!_ I plead the fifth, chu! You can't prove I did _nothin',_ chu!"

Cave raised a brow. "…I am not sure which 'fifth' you are referring to, but it will do nothing to protect a criminal who consorts with the likes of ASIC."

"Hey now, chu!" Warechu raised a hand, wagging a finger. "I ain't rollin' with ASIC or AffimaX or _any_ of those old gangs no more, chu! I'm clean now! I'm a changed mouse, chu!"

"Truly? Your history of recidivism would suggest otherwise." Cave turned her attention to Felistella. "Does he speak the truth?"

In response, Cave was handed a mop over the bar. She grasped it, staring at it questioningly.

"Maybe you'll get some answers once you clean up your mess," said the bartender, smacking a sloshing bucket down on the counter.

Cave bowed her head, a mix of embarrassment and shame burning at her cheeks. She turned to see that several of the other patrons had already moved to assist, grabbing the bodies and hauling them out through the door. A few were attempting to lift the fallen form of Copypaste even as he threw out insistences that "a true knight" required no aid, his weight proving to be a real challenge. Beneath it all was a series of skids and pools of liquids, blood and otherwise. All in all, it was quite the team effort.

The investigator steeled her shoulders, for once realizing just how much work it was to clean up after her handiwork. "Very well. I shall make this floor shine with unparalleled cleanliness as penitence."

Felistella managed a chuckle, a bittersweet smile forming upon her face. "Thank you, Cave. And…"

Cave had been in the process of jumping to work, but she halted, turning her head back to face the catgirl. "Oh? What is it, Felistella?"

"Do come by again, will you? N-Not on business or anything. I…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushing a little as her gaze turned away. "It's just that it's not often that I get to speak with an old friend. I-I mean, not that we were the best of friends, but…"

"Ah." Cave's eyes flickered to the array of baubles lining the walls, a few of which had been broken during the fight. Among the knickknacks was a framed photograph of a young girl smiling broadly, a black and white cat standing by her feet. A rare moment of sympathy flickered within the investigator as she nodded. "I understand. I must apologize in advance if I cannot fulfil such a role, however."

"…Role?"

"Of course. No bright-eyed adventurer is complete without a companion, are they?"

"I…"

A terse smile made its way onto Cave's lips. "Again, I must apologize, Felistella. The weight of the world is not one that should have ever made its way onto your shoulders."

Before the catgirl could ask what had been meant by that, Cave was already turning away, setting upon the task that she had been assigned with impressive fervor.


	5. Repression

_Seventy-four years ago…_

The foothills of central Gamindustri were considered barely habitable by most standards, the area being populated only by the hardiest of individuals seeking isolation, perhaps for training or meditation. Looming in the distance here was the great, towering peak upon which the infamous Gamindustri Graveyard resided, a resting place for countless beings of legend and a source of a thousand dark rumors. Superstition alone was enough to keep most citizens far, far away from these rugged hinterlands.

Those brave souls who sought to traverse the sloping hills and craggy cliffs would find themselves in a land of vast emptiness – a wilderness nearly devoid of life beyond the occasional bush or blade of grass, beautiful in its purity, and deadly to the uninitiated. The roads from surrounding areas turned from pavement to gravel, eventually melding seamlessly into the gray, rocky ground. Travel far enough, and soon the dangerously swaying rope bridges would disappear, and there would be no signs or guides in sight beyond the sun or stars. One would be greeted only by the howling wind, disturbing the stones that had been settled here since the dawn of time.

It was in these conditions that the best and worst of a person was brought to light in a land that otherwise catered to human comforts. Many adventurers considered a trip to the Graveyard foothills to be a rite of passage – and, of course, many fools had died in an attempt to prove themselves, wasting away from starvation, falling to their death from a misstep, or being devoured by the monsters said to inhabit the caves tucked beneath the cliffs.

One such an adventurer could be found there at that very moment, trudging through the uneven terrain in the waning hours of daylight. Travelling along to her side was a housecat, its lithe paws finding the journey across hundreds of sharp rocks to be difficult. Adding to its distress was the heavy pack strapped to its back. Eventually, it stopped, settling onto its hind legs and letting out a noisy meow.

"My pads are starting to get raw. Are you sure this is the right way?"

The girl turned to face the cat, breathing a sigh as she leaned down to place her hands on her knees. "I _thought_ it was the right way, but everything looks the same here. Rocks, rocks, and more rocks…"

The cat licked at its paw indignantly. "Now, I'm not suggesting that we're lost, but…"

Another sigh came from the girl, this one sounding a little more distraught. She then leapt back upright, fists held in front of her. "We can't give up now! We're almost there! I can _feel_ it!" With that, she spun on her heel and continued onward, the pep in her step having reignited. "Come on, Felis! It's just a little further!"

The cat laughed silently to itself. "Mrrrrr…Who said anything about giving up?"

The two carried on in the low-lying valley they found themselves in. It provided shelter from the wind, true, but it also rendered them blind to their surroundings. Then again, what was there to see? The only landmark for miles was that enormous peak in the distance, surrounded by a ring of ominous, black clouds, serving as a reminder of what had happened not so very long ago.

 _Gamindustri Graveyard…_

Felis turned his attention back to the path ahead when he heard a series of rocks roll and clatter to the ground. His companion was clambering up the side of a steep hill on all fours. "Be careful, Stella!" he meowed, rushing forward to catch up. "It'll be tough for little old me to catch you if you fall!"

The cat's words were seemingly ignored when a gasp of pure wonder was heard from the top of the hill. "Felis! Felis!" Stella gave a hop with each exclamation. "We found it!"

Climbing up the hill proved to be difficult for Felis, but he kept his wheezing quiet while he channeled the skill of a mountain goat.

Then, when the sight beyond met his feline eyes, all of his mortal worries were forgotten in an instant.

There, just barely visible on the horizon, was the beginning of a lake so massive that it could be mistaken for an ocean. And, through the wisps of fog rising from the water could be seen the silhouette of a sprawling structure of walls and spires, backlit by the setting sun that it obscured. A wide bridge led from it to somewhere off in the distance, far to the south. The remains of another bridge could be seen on the shoreline directly ahead – time had not been kind to it, as it now consisted only of a few stone pillars sticking out of the water.

The two travelers stood there for a time, wordless. The wind could be felt strongly here, tinted with the chill of evening as it ruffled Felis' fur and fluttered the frills on Stella's dress. Yet, they neither noticed nor cared that their bodies were cold, battered, and hungry. For them, the warmth within their hearts was enough to burn away any impurities that could mar their accomplishment.

By the time Felis wrested his eyes away from the scene before them, the first stars of the night were twinkling in the sky. Giving one big, long stretch, he turned to look at Stella – to his surprise, her eyes were closed. The sight struck him with hesitation. That look of serenity settled upon her youthful face was a far rarer and more precious thing than even the most beautiful of paintings. He was compelled to indulge himself, wishing that that moment would go on forever. Surely the long road ahead could wait just a little longer—

"Felis?"

The cat's heart almost sank with disappointment when he heard his companion's voice. "I'm here, Stella," he meowed.

A chuckle came from the girl. "Of course you are, silly." Her eyes closed once more – but a slight strain was now visible, her smile no longer so blissful. There was a pause before she spoke, her voice soft, "You were thinking about what we're going to do once the adventure's over, right?"

Felis could feel a strange, unnamable sensation tearing through his body. All he could do to mask it was to give his chest a few indignant licks. "I was thinking about how we should move quickly before night falls, but it seems that it's too late for that now."

Another quiet little laugh came from Stella, but it somehow lacked her usual mirth. "I know." Her smile fell, her eyes now open, locked onto nothing in particular in the distance.

What was this wistful look in her eye? A gust of wind punctuated the moment, rumbling the ground and causing the stones around them to rattle and roll. A shiver went through Stella, but she otherwise remained motionless, where normally she would grasp her arms and make her discomfort known.

 _Brrrr! It's cold out tonight! I wish I could have soft and warm fur like you, Felis!_

Felis' own shivering wasn't caused merely by the cold.

Stella suddenly laughed again, this time more loudly. Her mouth was back to giving that big, bright smile that usually adorned her. "Well? What are we waiting on? Adventure awaits!" She abruptly set off, making her way down the barren slope at a brisk pace.

That horrible feeling within Felis only grew further. Stella had never been one to hide her thoughts.

The trip from their vantage point to the shoreline ahead proved to be a lengthy one, made longer by the silence hanging over their heads. Soon enough, the last rays of sunlight had vanished from the horizon, and their path was lit only by the feeble light of the crescent moon overhead. The pack upon Felis' back was starting to feel heavier than ever, his sore paws and shoulders begging him to stop and rest.

 _Just a little further._

He should have been holding his head high. He should have been basking in their achievement. He could still feel the remnants of that wondrous experience from just moments prior – why was he now filled with such an awful weight?

Felis let out a growl when one of his legs suddenly collapsed beneath him, no longer having the energy to hold him up. He could hear a set of footsteps hurry over to him, a shadow soon blocking the moonlight as Stella dropped to her knees.

"Felis! Are you alright?!" The worry in Stella's voice was plain to hear.

"I'm…just a little tired…" the cat managed to sputter. "That's all."

"Don't be silly! You're hurt!" Stella's hands flittered this way and that over Felis, panic striking her with indecision.

"I'm fine, Stella. Don't worry so much."

"I'm supposed to be the one telling _you_ that!" She sniffled, tears suddenly coming to her eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have asked to come here when it's so dangerous…I knew I shouldn't have asked you to carry so much…I knew I should've listened to you when you said we were going in circles…" Her words were barely discernable, running together in a babble. "I'm so sorry, Felis! This was supposed to be our biggest and best adventure together, and now I've ruined _everything!_ "

The sobbing of a girl was the only sound present on the shallow hills. There was not the slightest rush of wind, nor the softest chirp of a cricket, nor the gurgling of water from the motionless lake in the distance. In that desolate land, the only being present to hear her was a single cat.

Felis managed to reach out a paw, giving Stella's knee a light tap. "Dry your tears, dear girl. You've done nothing wrong. If anything, I'm the one to blame, thinking I'm so big and tough."

That seemed to calm her a bit. She wiped her eyes a few times, giving another noisy sniffle. It seemed that she was about to say something, but she instead turned her gaze aside, bearing a long face.

"Stella."

Her eyes moved to meet those of the cat. Then, she took in a deep breath through her nose, letting it out with a big exhale, before suddenly reaching down to unclasp the straps holding the pack on Felis' back. Once she had moved the hefty pack to be secured on her own back, she placed her hands under the warm fur of Felis' belly, lifting him up a bit roughly to place him on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Felis," Stella said again as she rose to her feet, keeping the cat supported with her hands while he attempted to find a comfortable position against her neck. Her tone was somber – defeated. She turned around, eying the steep hill they had descended. The idea of climbing it with extra weight in tow made her uneasy, so she began to follow along the bottom of the hill, hoping to stumble along a path.

"Stella? Where are you going?"

The girl froze in her tracks, her neck seeming to grow very stiff. "I'm taking you home."

" _What?_ " the cat spat. "Are you daft, girl? You're going to just… _give up_ now?"

Stella's shoulders slumped, an indecisive moment passing as she turned to view the lake to her side. A sudden sniffle broke the silence as she fought to hold back another wave of tears. "You're…so old now, Felis. I…" Another sniffle. "I…I…I…"

Felis refrained from commenting. The heaviness in his own heart was growing to be unbearable.

"I don't want you to leave me, Felis!" Stella cried, no longer able to hold back. "I don't want you to die! I…" She clamped down on her lip, forcing herself to quit sobbing as her entire body shook and trembled. "I'm just a lost little girl without you…"

Felis moved to nuzzle Stella's cheek. "No. You're a young lady, now, Stella. You're stronger and braver right now than you've ever been. Just think – how many people have made it all the way out here before? You'll be able to boast about this for _years_ to come!"

Stella merely continued to pout, her eyes becoming cloudy.

A purr came from Felis. "Put those silly thoughts out of your head, Stella. I'm not going to just croak in the middle of our greatest adventure yet. Do you really think I could do something so mean?" There was a soft _thump_ as Felis hopped from Stella's shoulder and took a few steps ahead before turning back to face her, his eyes glowing in the moonlight. "Well? What are you waiting on?"

"You…" Stella forced down a swallow. "You're sure you want to keep going?"

Felis narrowed his eyes in mock annoyance. "Of course, silly girl. If I wasn't sure, then I'd say so. You know that."

A slight smile managed to make its way onto Stella's mouth. She gave a nod, a warmth blooming within her chest. "Alright. To LAN Castle we go!"

The two of them raced forward, their bodies bountiful with new energy. The glittering water of the lake was in clear view ahead – as was the outline of the castle on the horizon, so close, but so very far away.

That didn't stop them from heading ever onward. If anything, it invigorated them. This was what they lived for – the joy of overcoming hardships with a stalwart companion at one's side. No matter what the world threw at them, they managed to get through it together. Dozens of dungeons had been plundered, hundreds of monsters had been defeated, and countless innocents had been saved by the world-renowned Felis and Stella. Every tavern across Gamindustri knew of that strange duo – a girl and her cat, dead set on exploring the darkest of places with their heads held high.

What had Stella even been worried about? She knew Felis would never let her down, even if the weight of the pack on her back seemed to provide doubt to that idea. So what if he was getting up in years? He still had plenty of years to go – she was sure of it.

He would never leave her behind, would he?


	6. D0N-PCH1

_The warmth of a distant dream…_

 _How nostalgic indeed._

The breath of a sigh could be felt on one's neck.

 _If only life could be as wonderful as we dream it to be._

A figure stirred, pulling in a quiet gasp of air.

 _Heh. You feel it too, don't you? That horrible incongruence of a world that once was? Of a dream twisted into an all-too-real nightmare?_

 _Of a delusion drowned in the whirlpool of reality?_

A low groan cut through the silence.

In response, a chuckle played against the ears.

 _Tell me, human – why is it that you go on experiencing the world's pain, hm? Why is it that you push yourself so?_

 _Is it fear?_

 _Is it guilt?_

 _Or is there…some faint desire? A mortal comfort?_

 _A lost dream?_

"I…" The word was mumbled from a being lost in the throes of sleep. "…can't say…"

A sensation carrying all the warmth of a mother's embrace flowed through the mind, but it was tinged with a distant edge, as if it was that of a farewell. _What a shame. One would do well to learn one's self before it is too late._

 _Time is running short, after all._

 _But I'm sure you realize that..._

 _..Guardian of Leanbox._

* * *

 _Ka-chink. Thunk._

A coin rolled into its receptacle as if being devoured by a greedy mouth.

 _BrrrrrrrRRRRRRR…_

The screen flickered to life, blocky text on display.

 _Pewpewpewpew._

Garbled sound effects filled the ears. Strobing colors assaulted the eyes.

 _Clickclackclickclack._

The tiny spaceship onscreen weaved effortlessly through the field of projectiles that threatened to destroy it. One after another, its enemies fell, burning up in pixelated fires and explosions.

Soon, the boss of the enemy armada appeared. It was a grotesque thing – a fusion of animal and machine, a giant bee covered in metal plating and pulsating tubes. Strapped to its head was a sweeping laser. An array of turrets on its side filled the screen with geometric bullets. From its open maw launched a fleet of smaller bee-like creatures, each armed with their own weapons to add to the chaos. The monster proved a formidable foe, but before long, it too had been defeated, crashing to the ground with a trail of fire and a distorted scream.

" _Stage clear! Alright!"_

The game's narrator put out all sixteen bits that he could muster as a triumphant jingle played.

A silence fell over the room while the next level loaded.

" _Stage two! Good luck!"_

Cave let out a sigh, feeling her grip on the controls loosen ever so slightly. Her hands continued on autopilot, guiding the ship with impossible skill even as her mind wandered elsewhere. She had played through almost every level in the game a dozen times over – there were no surprises to be had here. Perhaps that was what she enjoyed the most about linear games. They ran on a preset script, giving the same performance to each and every player, for each and every play session. They may present extreme difficulty, but it was a _static_ difficulty. Given enough time, one could discover every facet of the game, much like one would memorize a song or a stance. Then, it became a learned game. The player could rest assured that their skill and experience would not fail them.

Of course, the real world was not so simple.

 _Welcome to the club._

The arcade stick was abruptly jerked to the side. In response, the cluster of pixels that was the player's ship turned into a colorful explosion. Cave's teeth clenched as she accepted her failure, relinquishing the controls and taking a step back. She merely watched as the ship flew in and exploded over and over in an endless cycle, until finally the lives counter had reached zero.

" _Continue? Ten…nine…"_

Cave raised a hand to her forehead as a wave of some unnamable feeling washed over her, her body shivering from the sensation. She clenched her hand, fingers clawing down to her chin. Though her nails left pale streaks, they were not nearly enough to scratch her artificial skin.

"I am nothing like you, _Fisherman_." The words were choked…guttural. "You and your ilk have _no place_ in the Gamindustri my Lady died for."

They were strong words.

If only she'd had the courage to say them to the man's face.

If only she'd had the courage so many years ago to speak her mind…

A blurriness had settled over Cave's vision. She blinked several times, confused, before reaching up to brush away something wet.

Not blood. Tears. They were an effective weapon upon the right maiden's cheeks.

But Cave hardly considered herself a fair maiden.

A scowling mask twisted onto her face. Her piercing gaze flickered back to the machine in front of her. The game sat innocently in attract mode, its intense animated footage playing against her eyes. A quick look around the room revealed that no one else was present. There was nothing but the machines lined within, standing silent in the dark even as they begged for coins to be inserted.

She allowed herself to breathe a little easier.

Finding herself alone among the cabinets was hardly a rare occurrence. Arcades were a dying breed in the Union of Gamindustri. Most only remained open through the efforts of hardcore fans, clever negotiating with landlords, and the subtle art of keeping one's head down. Those few individuals who frequented this establishment were a mystery, their eyes averted and their mouths sealed.

There was no such thing as a player two in this arcade. And that was…just fine.

While some sought to drown their sorrows in drink, Cave found a different sort of solace for her worries. She could easily lose herself in the dazzling lights, her score creeping ever higher as her hands deftly manipulated the controls. No other pastime in all of Gamindustri could draw her focus like an impossibly difficult scrolling shooter. She could spend hours on a single coin, oblivious to the world around her as she demonstrated that the game was, in fact, beatable.

Yet, she now found that her interest had waned.

Perhaps it was just time to find another game.

A weighty sigh escaped her lips.

The machine in front of her was like any other that could be found in the retro section of an arcade. The cabinet lacked in frills, its controls consisting of six white buttons and a stick. The artwork harkened back to the olden days of gaming, a depiction of a spaceship blasting a giant bee-like alien apart with a laser. The name on the top was written proudly in stylized letters – _Mania Mission II_.

There was no end of games just like it to play – far more than anyone could ever experience in their lifetime. Still, she felt that she'd had her fill for the time being.

She wasn't quite sure if she was ready to once again face the world, however. She was accustomed to running on fumes, but between tracking down SuperDisc and meeting one too many familiar faces, the past twenty-four hours had left Cave with not even a spark.

After assisting with the cleanup – and cover-up – of the Tunnel Snakes' failed attack at Felistella's bar, Cave had stayed there for a while longer to inquire about her mystery subject – Secret. It had quickly become apparent that there was no one there willing to divulge relevant information to her, regardless of whether they had any to begin with. The most she'd managed to glean was that Secret was a name often spoken by the mouths of criminals.

In other words, she'd made no progress in her investigation. And so, she'd come, sulking and exhausted, to the one place that could soothe her nerves – _D0N-PCH1,_ as the arcade was bizarrely called. She'd barely even bothered to bandage the bullet wound in her arm, her sleeve still coated in a splash of red.

Here, there was still at least one hi-score board still waiting for her name to be placed at the top…

"Perhaps there is an inkling of truth to games being quite the drug," she mused.

A vibrating from within her coat interrupted her thoughts. After a moment of rummaging, she had retrieved her phone. The screen was glaringly bright against the room's low lighting.

 _2 new messages._

Odd. She rarely received SMS messages. Most of Lastation's citizens preferred email instead. One 3D face image scan and a password input later, the messages were available for reading.

 _Dengekiko, 2:24 AM: Sheesh, what does it take to get you to call a girl? CALL ME, K? K._

"Ah. Of course."

If Cave had learned anything about the intrepid reporter since they began their "partnership" a few years ago, it was that she was not a patient woman. In turn, Cave had little patience for Dengekiko's antsy energy. Perhaps it was through this mutual disagreement that they maintained a cordial relationship, trading information and secrets far beneath even the eyes of the Goddess Herself. Cave knew that the info she gave rarely appeared in the articles and reports that Dengekiko worked on. Whatever the reporter did with the knowledge was a complete mystery – as was the span of her web of contacts.

Cave chuckled softly to herself. No doubt the other message was just another impatient reminder from—

 _Lyrica._

Cave's eyes grew wide as they met that name. A shiver went through her, her grip on the hard rubber case tightening. Somehow, she wasn't certain that she had read the name right…

 _Lyrica._

The name was right there in sans serif font, staring her in the face as she held her phone up.

 _Lyrica._

Almost exactly one year ago, Cave had received a letter – an actual, hand-written letter – from the idol better known as 5pb., along with two concert tickets provided free of charge. The invitation to the show had been polite and reserved, but Cave knew that the singer was counting on her friend's support. Yet, that friend had never showed up. In fact, that friend had not been in contact for well over a decade.

The year before that, she'd received a similar letter…along with two concert tickets. The year before that, she had received much the same. And the year before that…and the year before that…

The investigator let out a sigh. Something held Cave back whenever she considered sending any kind of reply to Lyrica's pleas for contact. What was it, exactly? It was true that they hadn't parted on the best of terms...but now, it seemed that the greatest reason was just that it would be awkward to rekindle their friendship after so long. The pettiness of it was not lost on Cave, but even still…

What _did_ it take to get her to call a girl?

Another few moments passed as Cave stared at the message header. She had a good idea of what the contents would be – and she was hardly in a state to peel open another old wound.

Cave gave another sigh. Then, she laughed at herself.

"How many sighs is that, now? Dengekiko would be sure to give me an earful if she saw me moping like this."

Cave turned her attention back to the room surrounding her – the dull yellow lights set into the ceiling, the pattern of stars upon the carpeted floor, the dozens of screens calling for players to join in competitive fun…

And not a single other soul in sight.

The empty feeling within Cave's chest was almost enough to make her sigh again.

"Oh. T-There you are, Cave."

The investigator's head instantly turned toward the sound. Through the flashing colors could be seen the glare of a focused red light. Surrounding it was the outline of a woman's face, a pair of catlike ears sticking up from her head in surprise.

"Hello," said Cave. "I hope I have not given you too much of a fright."

"I…hmph!" The woman's ears settled back down. "I just didn't expect to find you here at this hour, that's all. It's not like seeing the silhouette of a suit standing in the dark scares me or anything."

Cave forced a chuckle from herself, even as she grimaced. "I suppose I am doing your heart no favors by wearing this attire. I doubt I am doing much to boost your visitor count, either."

"Ah. Well…you know you're welcome whenever the place is open, Cave. It's no problem at all for you to be here."

Cave took several steps forward, ignoring the glow of the screens next to her. "If my presence if bothersome, then I will make myself scarce. I do not wish to impact your business."

The woman's ears shot back up. "N-No! Business is fine, and, um…" A quiet sigh came from her. The red light gazed away for a moment before pointing back at Cave. "Right. So business isn't so fine. But, still. That isn't your fault. As a matter of fact, you're probably my best customer."

"I see. And it is not one of the eight or so others who seem to drift in and out like listless ghosts?" Cave questioned, raising a brow.

"There's eleven of them, actually." The red light seemed to grow in intensity – a glaring eye. "Plus one little rat who insists on seeing you."

"Oh? A 'little rat?'"

"He's at the front. He wanted to come right in, but I told him he'd have to wait by the entrance if he wasn't going to be spending any money. Normally I wouldn't be so draconian, but…he looks an awful lot like one of the thieves who tried to sneak out with some PCBs a few months ago."

"Ah." The number of possible suspects instantly narrowed. "My apologies," said Cave. "It is my presence that has brought this rat here. I will see to him immediately."

"Allow me to lead the way, if you would. I want to get my eyes back on him, and…well, it's hard to do that if you're in front, seeing as you're a lot bigger than me."

Cave nodded. "Understood."

The woman led Cave through a doorway that went out from the retro room to the main area. Most of the machines present were lined along the walls, leaving a few narrow paths through the middle. The establishment was relatively small, and it didn't take long to reach the front. There, facing the double-door entrance was a long bar with the works. Glasses hung from above at the ready, and all the types of drinks one might expect were on display behind. Stools sat along the bar, and a small series of tables filled the space nearby. A warm, brownish hue was thrown on the scene by the conic lights stretching from the ceiling, matched by the dark faux-wood flooring.

Technically, one might call the place a _barcade,_ though the bar itself was hardly a premiere attraction.

Here in the brighter lighting, Cave could more easily make out details of the woman. She was of average height by Lastation standards – leaving the cat ears poking up a full head below Cave's sight line. She donned an red designer dress, complemented by long, black socks and arm warmers. Her hair was just as red, reaching down to her shoulders and having several drilltails billowing from it that served to catch the eye, if the outline-hugging dress or artfully placed absolute territory didn't already do the job. Here in Lastation, such an outfit was a quick way to be marked as an outsider with bold tastes.

Pacing worriedly in the front area was a familiar ex-gangster.

"Chu…why's she gotta be a cat named Stella, too, chuuuuu…" the rodent moaned. "Is this the hot new fad sweeping through Lastation, chu? Why couldn't it be cute mouse-eared nurses instead, chuuuuu…"

"I have arrived. Speak your business."

Warechu jumped a foot in the air at the sound of Cave's voice. His gaze swept between the two women who were staring pointedly at him. "Chu! I ain't done nothin' wrong, and you're already treating me like a criminal, chu!"

"Don't be disingenuous," said Stella, placing a hand on her hip. From this angle, the metal plating surrounding her red artificial eye was plain to see. The visage of _Mania Mission II's_ disfigured bee monsters came briefly to mind. "You and your cronies have already tried to steal from me once. You're lucky I let you in at all, _rat._ "

"Yeah, yeah." Something offensive involving felines and cucumbers was mumbled beneath Warechu's breath. "Anyway, your friend and I have some business to discuss, chu. So, you can run along and choke on some catnip or something, _chu._ "

Stella motioned to step forward before being stopped by a raised arm from Cave.

"I will handle this," said the investigator. "Again, my sincerest apologies for bringing you this headache."

The catgirl's eyes moved between the two other individuals in the room before she nodded. "Right. Put the fear of that Goddess of yours in him for me, if you would."

Cave lowered her arm. "If it is necessary, I will not hesitate to do so." She took a few steps toward the entrance. "Let us proceed outside."

" _Finally._ I've been waiting to blow this sad little popsicle stand, chu," said Warechu, who complied readily with Cave's request. " _Uhhhggg._ At this rate, everyone's gonna think I'm some kind of cat-loving freak, chu..."


End file.
